3D/4D sono picture taken at 34w4d - a cheeky smile and a thumbs up, straight in the nose.
Ever since our umbilical cord scare at the beginning of September, Hadley has continued to be on the up and up. At last week's 34 week appointment, her levels were the best they had looked since August. The modified bed rest has helped, and I also believe our steadfast support network of prayer warriors have added to this outcome as well. Her levels look wonderful, her movements have been great, and she is a growing girl estimating close to 6 lbs.
In my pregnancy with Hudson, I remember the tremendous guilt I later felt for this, but around the beginning of the third trimester I became sad and a bit scared. I was sad that I had "twelvish" weeks left with Max as just the two of us. That for seven years (4.5 years dating, 2.5 years married) it had been just us doing things however, and really whenever, we wanted to. We added George the pup to the mix two years ago and sure that changed things a bit, but not greatly. Now we were talking about a baby. A baby who would become a toddler, who would become a kid, who would become a teenager, who would become an adult. We were talking about a human being that we were responsible for now, forever and always. I was scared of what if we changed? What if we grew apart? What if our marriage wasn't ready for this? What if we resented each other over parenting issues? What if we would never be the same?
I remember talking to a friend about those thoughts, asking if this was normal, to which she assured me she thought all the same things around the same point of her pregnancy. Of course on the forefront of my mind, I couldn't wait to have Hudson with us. I had so much love for that baby already and couldn't wait to be his mama and see my husband as a father. There was just this secondary emotional thought train going on of missing the "us" that we've been because it would inevitably change.
Then, the unthinkable happened. Our son died. Suddenly and without warning we were thrust into a world of grief that included pain, confusion, anger and sadness. There were times we were more connected than ever, other times we were disconnected and needing different things. Within the first week of our loss, we were warned to protect our marriage because grief can tear a couple apart. I remember on one of the nights I couldn't sleep within that first month, I had been watching TV on the couch and I laid my head down with thoughts swirling. I remembered that I had been having those feelings of sadness surrounding the fact that it wouldn't just be the two of us anymore. I got so upset with myself about it, racked with guilt, that I made myself sick. I was so worried about how our life would look with another in it, I never stopped to think about how our life would look without that life anymore. How could I ever have felt that way? How could I have thought so selfishly? Now he's gone and I'd give anything to have him, to have the three of us, to have everything change because it would have been for the better. The alternative change that we got instead was the absolute worst.
This pregnancy, we have been so caught up in all the emotions surrounding this new life and the anticipation of getting to the point where she is here. Today we are 35 weeks. It was a long afternoon of appointments but they went well and Hadley is just perfect.
On Monday before our sono appointment, Max and I grabbed a quick lunch beforehand at a little cafe near the hospital. As we were sitting there eating, he said you know what I thought of today? We aren't going to have the moment of rush and excitement of "ahh my water broke, let's get to the hospital!" He said it in an upbeat way but I could tell it made him a little glum. That was a thought that occurred to me over a year ago at one of our post-partum follow up appointments after Hudson. At the time, it had made me sad too. My doctor had told us then that going forward, we will be high risk and in any pregnancy we have in the future, she will induce early. I remember feeling robbed of that experience where a husband and wife are frantically, yet excitedly, rushing to the hospital because it's time! However, it's a romanticized idea which we will have in a different way. Now knowing what we've been through and the path we've walked, I'm okay with how it will happen for us because I'd rather be safe than take chances.
We are "two-ish" weeks away from her arrival. This morning, I got up and walked into her room. I turned on the little lamp by her bed and just look at everything, taking it all in. Her books filled with special messages from friends sitting on shelves. Her crib now all dressed and put together. The little nightstand next to it with her swaddles, pacifiers and blankies. Her chest of drawers with pretty trinkets and Hudson's shadow box of special things. The rocker we will spend hours upon hours in and the antique lace and peach ribbon hanging from the dream catcher on the wall above it. Her changing table area with everything neatly sorted and waiting. I run my feet along the soft rug that someday she'll play on. I look in her toy basket at the sensory books, stuffed animals and other toys collected. I open her closet to see a full array of clothes hanging, her shoes, the many cases of diapers in all sizes, and various other items like the bumbo and boppy lounger, in position ready for use. The peach and ivory crepe paper flowers are the last thing to do and are waiting to be hung above the crib as soon as the rest arrive.
Time has surprisingly passed by quickly to me and I feel like these next two-ish weeks will fly by and then it'll be time. I want to exhale with relief but I'm still holding my breath. We are ready for her, we see life with her in it, we just need to get through the actual day of that happening. This week, I had the feeling for the first time that oh my goodness, it's almost here. Our lives as we know them will change again - but in the best way. It won't be just the two of us, doing whatever we want to do at any time. It will be about her, it will be about the three of us and Hudson watching over. This time, it doesn't scare me. This time there is a piece of me that wants to skip past the hospital part, because we've had that part before. Though I know this time will be so different and of course the moment I've been waiting for is to hear her and see her for the first time, I just want to get to the part when we are walking through our front door with her, home at last as a family, and starting that life together.
You will.
ReplyDeleteCan't wait!