I'm not sure where this expression came from and typing it just now felt like an out of body experience. Merry making...
Still thinking about that one.
Anyways, last week was hard. This little baby of ours is such a stinker. Just when I was feeling great movements and maybe even seeing a little bit of a pattern with waking and sleeping, yep you guessed it. The baby has flipped and decided to face my back, so now I'm getting like nothing. argh. Well, okay not nothing. I can feel some pokes and kicks every now and again, but it's nerve wracking not to feel constant/consistent movement.
Tuesday night, I had completely convinced myself that the baby was in Heaven with Jesus. I was feeling nothing from the baby and having the experiences I have had, I just went to worst case scenario and believed that we had lost this little one. I was wide awake Wednesday morning until 3am waiting and wishing and begging the baby to move. It was an awful night. My mind kept replaying the morning I knew something was wrong with Owen- so many bad memories.
I woke up early Wednesday and got an appointment with the nurse to hear the heartbeat later that morning. I sat in the waiting room with a hugely pregnant woman, a woman with an infant, and another couple with a 2 year old. Yep. That was fun.
I was called back and the nurse found the heartbeat after a moment. I just was not convinced that it was the baby's and started to cry, but after a minute or two I was finally convinced that it was indeed the baby's heartbeat I was hearing. 154 beautiful beats per minute.
I cried some more, which I think concerned the nurse a little. I'm still not so sure she really understands how difficult this is. When I walked out of the office, I ran into the NP who just looked at me and said, 'Sweetie...I wish there was something I could do to make this easier for you, but I think it's just going to be a hard road.'
*big sigh of relief* Thank you for getting it.
Yes, this is a hard road, but one I'm so thankful to be on. Before the baby moved positions, when I was feeling a lot of movement, I found myself thinking: This baby may live. This baby may live. This baby may live.
Yes, this baby may live.
Depending on when we decide to get an amnio and then induce, I have roughly 20 weeks left. Tomorrow we go in for our anatomy scan. I am so excited to get another peak at the baby. We haven't seen our sweet little one since the beginning of November. I have to admit that I am unusually (or maybe it's the usual) anxious about seeing all the parts and measurements. I want everything to be healthy and normal. With Owen, our anatomy scan was the first indication that something might be wrong. Of course, we were lulled into complacency because of semi-negligence from the doctors, but I HAVE to give this to the Lord because He is sovereign over everything.
I just want a fast forward button; a scan chapters button so we can be at May already.
Last Wednesday, after the heartbeat check, I went over a friend's house and we had a great time making peppermint bark. Can you say delicious? These two friends are the ones who helped plan and make Owen's birthday a beautiful day. Their little girls are just adorable. I always have a fun time with them, but afterwards, I get this extremely 'let down' feeling when I leave with no little one to get home in time for a nap. I always leave by myself. It's not easy to be constantly reminded of what you don't have, but I don't know where I would be without these two friends. I have to admit that it does make it easier that their two-year-olds are girls. Owen would have been seriously in love with these two beauties.
Friday morning, I baby-sat little G. for a bit. L. if you're reading this, no we did not watch A Charlie Brown Christmas three times (um, yes we did). I sat on the couch while sweet little G. played on the ottoman and got up and down, up and down while watching the show. Sometimes, I just can't wrap my brain around the fact that Owen would be that big now. If he was living with us, then I would have a little guy running around my house wanting to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas over and over.
(edited to add: I can't believe I forgot to mention that Friday was also our FIVE year wedding anniversary!)
Chris, Papa...I love you more than words can say. You have been the husband that I always dreamed of marrying. Though you're not perfect, you get it right a lot of the time. I can't believe how much we've survived together, or how much more in love I am today than I was five years ago. I'm sorry for how I fall short in our marriage, as your wife, your best friend. Thank you for your gracious and forgiving attitude you always have when I mess up. I love you, Pops.
I guess I officially joined in the commercialization of Christmas this year by going Christmas shopping this weekend with the women-folk in my family. Every year, for four years now, we take a trip to the big city of Atlanta and shop at a HUGE mall, then we spend the night and do it all over again the next day. The mall was packed both days. I haven't been surrounded by that many people in a long time. There were a few sneezers and coughers walking past us, which made me both nervous and angry at the same time. Seriously, people cough into your elbow (or inside your shirt, I don't care) or stay home.
And I got my first dirty look this weekend. What, you ask, was that all about? I guess I'm just used to them, but I tend to get quite a few ugly looks when I'm pregnant. I got so angry when people did it when I was pregnant with Owen, but my perspective is drastically different now.
The joke in my family is that I look 12...I've looked 12 since I was 12. Maybe, I'm starting to look a little bit older as grief and wrinkles take their permanent place in my life, but apparently I still look young. I don't feel young, but I guess I do still look young. Anyways, my sister-in-law was saying something about how excited she is for my belly to get really big, and I responded with, "Get really big, it is big." (I should say that I don't normally talk about my pregnancy out in public or rub my belly like I did with Owen, but it's getting hard to hide my growing belly. I mean, I'm the same size with this baby as I was with Owen in my 26th week.) We were walking down the mall, and this lady (probably my age or a little older) whips her head around to stare at me and my belly, all the while giving me the before mentioned 'dirty look'.
But I understand. I really do. I have given this look many a time, usually completely unaware that I was doing it. My face just naturally aligned itself into an 'ugly face' whenever I saw a pregnant woman. It's hard to say what previous (or current) experiences someone has and you can never judge a book by its cover.
Tonight, Chris and I are going over to Tonya's house for dinner. I am super excited. Chris and Gib haven't had the chance to meet yet, so I'm looking forward to them meeting and getting to talk. Chris has only met one other man who has the same experiences as him, and it is such a special and important thing for him to be able to talk to someone man-to-man about his grief.
We are going in for our scan at 8:30 tomorrow morning, but I don't expect to be able to post until later in the day, probably in the afternoon. I am bouncing in my chair as I speak (type) unable to contain the joy and nervous energy I have at seeing our baby tomorrow. Please pray that the baby cooperates and we can see all his/her precious organs, and that everything is healthy and normal.
Please don't be too disappointed that I won't be able to share the gender news right away. We are going to wait until we see family to tell them the news in person and since some of them read this blog, I can't share it here until after Christmas. I'm serious when I say after Christmas, because I'll probably be on here first thing in the morning on December 26th posting the news and probably the name too.
Thank you all for your continued prayers. We know our Father hears them.
I am praying that everyone is able to enjoy Christ's presence during this special time of year.