So why had I only given myself roughly 45 minutes to get ready, have my 1 cup of caffeine for the day that I've come to cherish and have enough time to eat a breakfast high enough protein to fend off those dizzy blood sugar spells I've been having? Well I can answer that question easily enough .... fear.
"I give you fear
You give me faith
I give you doubt
You give me grace"
Those words have been swirly around in my head this past month as each day seems to bring another struggle. Another sad memory, another anxious thought. I've wondered why too, especially following all of the good news we received about baby number 2 in February, and then it began to hit me.
This time, around the 16-20 weeks in the pregnancy with Elliott were truly and I mean truly hell on earth and I've been reliving those days in my mind and in my heart. After the follow up appointment for Elliott where we were told of her complications of incompatible with life and in our hands were the test results that read that over 95% of her body was abnormal I told Joe I didn't even feel like I was carrying a baby. I'm so embarrassed to even admit those words now. I was terrified at the thought of delivering a baby who had died inside of me. I didn't think I would be strong enough, like the thousands of woman, who sadly experience loss unknowingly and have no other choice but to deliver their baby sleeping.
Yet even those days couldn't compare to the day we met the new doctor for the second opinion. The one willing to terminate the pregnancy. I remember feeling ill the entire drive into the city and as we parked our car so much of me wanted to lay down on the cold concrete and plead with Joe not to go in there. I must have known then that I couldn't go through with it. Yet, I kept walking one foot in front of the other, willingly. I'm sure I shook the doctor's hand, probably even managed a fake smile. But as we sat across from this man, I can't even tell you if he was young or old, tall or short, slim or not, his face is a blur, all I kept thinking was, but I'm her mother. He said by law he had to describe step by step the procedure. I was spare you the gruesome details for I do not wish these nightmares I still have on any of you.
That day was by far the absolute worst day and yet the most powerful and important day of my life.
And then there she was, just four very short months later, resting in the Joe's hands. Beautiful, glowing, alive and perfect in our eyes. I knew I loved her, but this love was indescribable, I never imagined I would love her this much. And I wanted her so badly. I wanted her to keep breathing, she looked so perfect on the outside. I wanted to keep her, I wanted her to by mine, to be ours forever. I wanted to scream to the doctors to save her, help her, she's alive. But I kept looking at Joe staring at his beautiful daughter and I knew he wanted her too yet he wasn't yelling for the doctors either, he was so strong and was simply loving her and holding her, just as we hand planned for. And there was so much peace in the room and peace about her that I couldn't get the words to come out of my mouth either. I just kept looking at her, treasuring the minutes we had with her, burning the memories in my mind. For the past four months I had prayed for peace when we met Elliott. For peace in my heart and in Joe's. For her to not be in any pain.
God answered those prayers mightily.
Those four months of the pregnancy felt like the longest days and months of my life. Never knowing if I truly had the the strength to get through the next day. Its so easy to feel like you'll never get out of the pit, the storm will never ease, the pain with never dull. But it does. What you're going through can't last forever. Looking back now, I can't believe how quickly those four months went by, how quickly the 30 weeks of the pregnancy went by.
We're already into the 5th month of this new pregnancy and I'm trying to savor every minute, and I have to tell you it has been so good.
A friend of mine told me that when you have your first child, you have this love you never knew was possible. And then when you go on to have your second and even third or fourth, you wonder as a mother how can you possibly love your next baby as much with out taking away from the first. She said you don't, that with each new child comes a whole new level of love you never knew existed within you.
Yet even those days couldn't compare to the day we met the new doctor for the second opinion. The one willing to terminate the pregnancy. I remember feeling ill the entire drive into the city and as we parked our car so much of me wanted to lay down on the cold concrete and plead with Joe not to go in there. I must have known then that I couldn't go through with it. Yet, I kept walking one foot in front of the other, willingly. I'm sure I shook the doctor's hand, probably even managed a fake smile. But as we sat across from this man, I can't even tell you if he was young or old, tall or short, slim or not, his face is a blur, all I kept thinking was, but I'm her mother. He said by law he had to describe step by step the procedure. I was spare you the gruesome details for I do not wish these nightmares I still have on any of you.
That day was by far the absolute worst day and yet the most powerful and important day of my life.
And then there she was, just four very short months later, resting in the Joe's hands. Beautiful, glowing, alive and perfect in our eyes. I knew I loved her, but this love was indescribable, I never imagined I would love her this much. And I wanted her so badly. I wanted her to keep breathing, she looked so perfect on the outside. I wanted to keep her, I wanted her to by mine, to be ours forever. I wanted to scream to the doctors to save her, help her, she's alive. But I kept looking at Joe staring at his beautiful daughter and I knew he wanted her too yet he wasn't yelling for the doctors either, he was so strong and was simply loving her and holding her, just as we hand planned for. And there was so much peace in the room and peace about her that I couldn't get the words to come out of my mouth either. I just kept looking at her, treasuring the minutes we had with her, burning the memories in my mind. For the past four months I had prayed for peace when we met Elliott. For peace in my heart and in Joe's. For her to not be in any pain.
God answered those prayers mightily.
Those four months of the pregnancy felt like the longest days and months of my life. Never knowing if I truly had the the strength to get through the next day. Its so easy to feel like you'll never get out of the pit, the storm will never ease, the pain with never dull. But it does. What you're going through can't last forever. Looking back now, I can't believe how quickly those four months went by, how quickly the 30 weeks of the pregnancy went by.
We're already into the 5th month of this new pregnancy and I'm trying to savor every minute, and I have to tell you it has been so good.
A friend of mine told me that when you have your first child, you have this love you never knew was possible. And then when you go on to have your second and even third or fourth, you wonder as a mother how can you possibly love your next baby as much with out taking away from the first. She said you don't, that with each new child comes a whole new level of love you never knew existed within you.
I pray this is true, for I am not ready to take away any of the love I have for Elliott.
I think that's why I was scared to find out the gender of baby #2. I had myself convinced it was a boy, for very concrete reasons too of course - I'm carrying this baby lower - it's got to be a boy. The heartbeat at the February appointment was lower - it's got to be a boy. I even had a dream I was caring for a baby boy.
If it was a boy, then I could love both equally, right. Love for my daughter and love for my son, right. I wouldn't compare the two either, there would be less sadness, less fear, right.
I still have goosebumps when I think about our ultrasound tech announcing, well it's definitely a baby girl!
I was shocked and elated. My heart skipped a beat and I turned to Joe who was absolutely beaming. He's going to be so wrapped up in love for this little girl, I can see it now.
I'm not sure if it was the timing of the announcement that took us by surprise or that the baby is in fact a girl. Tears of happiness streamed down my face - no sadness - no fear. It was simply pure joy, like a child unwrapping their first gift on Christmas morning.
This is a completely different baby and pregnancy. This is Elliott's little sister.
And what a spunky little girl she is, showing off for us by rolling and twisting and turning. At one point she was practicing breathing and even got the hick ups.
We rushed down to the gift shop to buy something girly, something pink and lovely to announce the news to our family and friends.
As we stepped on to the elevator heading up to the parking garage, our hands full of ultrasound pictures and our hearts beaming with love and happiness, another pregnant couple walked on too. Only in their hands was a folder and at the bottom left corner it read, congenital heart ... I couldn't make out the last few words, but instinctively I wanted to hide what was in my hands. I prayed they didn't see it and I prayed for them, whatever they are facing with their unborn child, I pray that God heals their baby and gives them them the strength they need to face the road ahead.
Hours after our appointment, Joe said he was still thinking of that other couple.
Perhaps the timing of this was pure coincidence, but for us it was another reminder of how blessed we are.
I'm not naive enough to think that every day will feel like Christmas morning with this little one at home, but I pray I cherish the good and the not so good. Sleepless nights, long days, dirty diapers, spoiled clothes, hers and ours, sticky counter tops and kitchen floors, messy rooms - all that comes with a home full of life. I pray I always make time for snuggles, get down on the floor and play with her, watch and wonder as she shows us who she is, show her love and patience, compassion and grace. Allow her to be her and never place my own expectations upon her or ever allow her to knows she's failed to reach those expectations. I pray that I have the strength to look beyond any fear and teach her about faith.
I pray that I'm a good mom.
