Oh Baby, Oh Baby!

 

Baby 5Here we go again. I’m 12 – almost 13 – weeks pregnant and once again I am terrified. Not because I don’t want to have a baby. But because I DO.

I want to hold it and kiss it and cradle it. Not just once but millions of times over dozens of years.

This is the second time I have carried a baby since we lost our third son. He was born sleeping at 37 weeks gestation. We had set up the crib. We had filled his dresser. We had bought diapers and wipes and binkies.

When we called family and friends to tell them the news, they thought he was alive and well. It was devastating.

It’s been four years, but I’ll never get over losing him. (You can read more about him here.)

And that’s why I’m scared out of my mind to be risking it all again. Because I have learned that sometimes tragic things do happen to ME.

I’ve made it three months. Only six to go – half a year.

I can do this.

But I’m going to have to take it one day at a time. One hour, maybe even sometimes one minute at a time.

Like I said, this is the second time I have carried a baby since we lost Luca. The first time ended perfectly. In July 2012 we were blessed with our beautiful little rainbow baby. He has defrosted much of my frozen heart and reminded me that there is still hope in the world. (You can read about that here.)

Hopefully that hope will carry me through the next several months. Hopefully it will keep me going when I am worried sick.

Because I know I will have times when I will go out of my mind with fear. For I will be the first to know if something goes wrong. Like that fateful day four years ago when I noticed our baby stopped moving.

I don’t want to go through that again.

So I’m going to be selfish the next six months. I am going to take deep breaths and eat a lot of ice cream. I’m going to soak in the bathtub and listen to my favorite Pandora station.

I’m going to take time to relax and enjoy every moment.

I am going to focus on me. I’ve got to.

I have three favors to ask all of you this time around.

First, PLEASE don’t congratulate me. I don’t want you to jinx anything.  And it may sound harsh, but I don’t want to hear it. Not until my baby is born alive and well. Then you can scream congratulations from the mountaintops – we can shout happy news together.

What can you say instead of congrats? If you really want to know, ask me how I’m doing. That’s my second request.

Help me stay sane during the next 27 weeks. Call me, text me, email me, whatever. I know I’m going to turn into a hermit. I’ll need lots of encouragement and motivation. I’m sure there will be many days I’ll just want to stay in bed or lounge on the couch, but that’s not good for me.

I can do this. I can!

Finally, don’t ask me what I am having. I will proudly declare: “A human!”

As the mother of four beautiful boys, chances are that I am carrying a fifth.

I’ve decided I’m not going to tell anyone what it is. ANYONE. If you happen to see me decorating or buying new baby clothes you might be able to guess, but I’m not going to come right out and say it.

I don’t want to hear what I’ve already heard over and over and over: “No girls?”, “I hope you get a girl this time,” etc.

I don’t care what it is. Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to wrap up a little one in pink, but if I have learned anything through losing Luca, I have learned not to take anything for granted. Especially when it comes to my children.

Whatever it is, boy or girl, I will love it because it will be mine.

Let’s just hope we both make it until October 12.

Pregnant and Terrified

I am three months pregnant and absolutely terrified. 

Don’t get me wrong I am also thrilled. My husband and I have waited a year to see a double pink line appear. But that doesn’t mean my hand wasn’t shaking while holding the testing stick and I was able to get any sleep the night we found out.

I have waited for this baby for a long, long time. I wrote about my struggles getting pregnant back in October. Less than a month later I found out I was expecting. I am so grateful for the love and support I have received recently.

I have tried to take a cautiously optimistic approach to this pregnancy. My boys are extremely excited and have big plans for what they are going to do with their new sibling.

I am extremely grateful to be carrying another life.

But on the other hand I am scared to death. Scared of death to be exact.

The odds of my unborn child dying are seriously slim to none. But I’ve heard that before. There is absolutely no one who can guarantee that in 6 months I will be bringing a bundle of joy home to raise here on earth.

I have made it past the 9-week mark. That’s when my second pregnancy ended in miscarriage. But I still have 23 weeks to go to make it to the 37-week mark when Luca died.

Some days I am completely fine. I feel at peace with my body and my new baby. But other days I get severely anxious and nervous.

Like the day I woke up without any nausea. I have been pretty sick for the past two months and so I was convinced that I had lost my baby because I felt fine.

Then I had an ultrasound at 10 weeks. Everything looked great. Until I got the photos home and it looked like one of the pictures of my baby’s umbilical cord showed a knot.

I stressed over that photo for two weeks. Until I took the picture in to my doctor and he reassured me that it wasn’t a knot and that my baby was too small to make a knot yet anyway.

Any time I am scheduled for an appointment I have serious stress. My biggest fear is that I will go to an ultrasound and my child’s heart won’t be beating on the screen. Or that my doctor won’t be able to find the sound of the heartbeat with his doplar monitor.

But these are stresses I knew I would have. Stresses that I have to have in order to risk bringing another life into the world. I knew it would be rough and I am in for the long haul.

July 10 won’t come fast enough.

Until then I am going to indulge in my cravings and dream up ways to get more sleep.

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