So I am officially entering the 3rd trimester. I saw a lot of old friends this weekend at Carl's company holiday party. It was so nice to see so many people who I care for - and they all had questions about Luke/Ella. I think I answered the "Girl or boy?" question about a million times. I also was asked about the due date, how was I handling the nursery if I don't know pink or blue, how does Savannah feel about it, and even more questions. I enjoyed all the curiosity and well wishes, but it also reminded me of the little time we have left to enjoy pregnancy...especially if this is my last. At times I enjoy the sensation of Luke/Ella moving around and kicking and generally letting me know that he/she wants some more space...but then there are times (like last night) when I feel so nauseous that the extra kicking and rolling doesn't help the ill feeling. I dread the recovery of it all...but I cannot wait for the baby...it is just still so surreal.
And I still keep being reminded, even if subtly, that I have lost two children since we were blessed with Savannah. At the party we saw several couples that now have two children, or will have two within weeks. We were the first of all of those couples to have a child...so since Savannah's birth they have gotten pregnant and delivered healthy children. I don't mind the timing, I am really happy about the way things are working out. God always knows best. I'm just sad about the two children I didn't meet.
I think the pain of losing two will be with me forever...I had hoped that being pregnant would help...and it has...but last night Carl and I started watching "One Born Every Minute" again...it really is such a truthful and touching show. I love it...even though I cry every time I watch it. Last night we caught up on the first two episodes of the new season...and there was one woman on there that had gone through two miscarriages and a still birth...and she was finally in there to deliver her baby at 36 weeks (which was another eek moment - that's only 8 weeks away for me!). When the baby was finally born she just cried and cried and it was just SO emotional...and I cried right along with her. I cannot imagine what she has been through...even with my own history I can't imagine it.
Our good friend Patrick was at the house, watching the show too (I think he just allows the pregnant one to control the remote out of sweetness.). He isn't a dad yet, and hasn't really been through the hospital routine of it all...which I think allowed Carl to feel kind of special because he could fill Patrick in on all the things that happen...the boring parts and the gross parts too. But I think Patrick was really watching me for signs of breakdown...I'm sure Carl was too, but he knows what to expect.
It also spurred a lot of conversation that I know I need to start thinking about, but I've avoided. Carl and I always marvel at how on the show, the dads are always bored out of their minds waiting for something to happen...hardly can sit still or sleep a lot or eat a lot...and we just laugh because by the time we got to the hospital, Carl barely had time to go to the car to get our bags and get the camera set up before it was time for him to help me push...like he barely had time to call the parents and let them know we were there. He just told them that if they wanted to see me before Savannah arrived, they'd better hurry up. He didn't eat a thing until after Savannah's birth because we got out of bed that morning and sped to the hospital and it all happened SO fast. And so natural. We never had doctors fretting over low heart beats, or less baby activity...it was just so amazingly smooth sailing. Never once was anyone ever panicked...it was just so perfect. I have thought about that day a lot. That was a true gift from God too. I was able to fully enjoy (and yes suffer) through the natural birth of Savannah. So many women want that, and don't get it. We truly did have an amazing birthing experience...so after watching these shows with Patrick, he of course asked all about how things went with Savannah...which of course led to the conversation of, "Do you think that will happen again this time?".
I'd like to say "Yes it will."...but I know every child and pregnancy and birth is unique. I may be one of those with a body built for having babies...but who knows. I do know that it's quite possible things will move faster this time. Which in itself is scary because Savannah was born 24 hours after the first inkling of "Is that what a contraction feels like?" But will it be as easy? Maybe, maybe not. This baby might be bigger than Savannah was(usually the second child is) which could make a natural childbirth a little bit more difficult. I could not go into labor on my own, I might need a c-section, my blood pressure might drop...there is just so much that can happen that we can't predict...and while I would like to think we have time to discuss our "plan" for everything...it really isn't that far away. I will be 28 weeks on Thursday...the baby (according to estimates) is already around 2 - 2.5 pounds and 15 inches...if I go into labor 9 weeks from now, they won't stop me. There's a lot to decide before then...a lot to discuss. A lot to fear, a lot to rejoice.
When we were watching the mother who had lost 3 children (all of that happened to her in 3 years too), Patrick said "How would you decide when to stop trying?"...and that is the name of the game at our house...which I told Pat. It becomes this weight that you try to balance...what if you are successful? What if you're not? What happens emotionally to the house that loses yet another child? It has been such a difficult path...and I certainly know we aren't the only people in the world with a path like this...or worse.
So emotionally I'm kind of a wreck. I'm excited, I'm fearful, I'm scared, I'm sad...12 more weeks...or less. The home stretch. At church yesterday, a tiny baby was baptized...he was just a few months old. Savannah was baptized when she was just over 2 months old. Carl and I have had plans, since before conception of Luke/Ella, to have him/her baptized the first Sunday we aren't in the hospital. I just think this baby is such a gift from God, we're going to immediately give him/her back to God. I know some people think we're crazy, taking a baby that is days old, to church, in the middle of winter...but it is something we feel strongly about. I eagerly await that Sunday where we can announce the birth of our child and dedicate him/her to God...it will be a glorious day for sure.
Every day I am reminded of how many others are worse off than I am...and because of that I keep going, not allowing myself to wallow in pity...but it is hard some days...but I am blessed. For that, I am thankful.
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