The Last Day I Will Carry You

I have carried you for nine long months.  This morning when I woke up it was the first morning in nine months I didn't have to get up by my alarm to take medicine at the right time, the first time in nine months I didn't have to give myself a shot this morning, the first time in nine months I just laid in bed with nothing I needed to jump up to do to keep you safe inside me.  I just laid there feeling you wiggle around, until I heard "Mommy, Come get me!" coming from your big sister's room :) Yes, I have carried you for nine months.  I can remember when we weren't sure I would even carry you long enough for your heart to start beating, when we weren't sure I would carry you past 16 weeks, when our goal was just for me to carry you to 24 weeks when you would be viable outside of me.  I remember being so surprised when I started feeling you move at just 16 weeks and how strong and frequent your kicks were that early.  I remember finding out you were a girl and the joy it brought my heart (I secretly hoped you would be a girl).  I remember surprising your Mimi and Papa with a cake that told them you were a girl and how happy they were.  I remember all the many ultra sounds that showed you were growing, developing, thriving and doing well.  So many anxious days, so many sleepless nights, so much fear that I would lose you,  so many desperate moments of checking to make sure your heart was still beating, so many needle pokes and bruises on my tummy, so many band-aids stuck to my tummy after a needle stick, as if they were a physical announcement that this tummy is broken and doesn't work so well when it comes to carrying babies.  Moments of joy, moments of sadness, moments of sheer hope and faith.  It's been quite a ride baby girl and it's almost over.  This is our last day to be connected to one another, your last day inside of me.  So bittersweet.  I won't miss many aspects of this pregnancy, but as hard as it has been, I will miss carrying you, your kicks, your rolls, a tummy big and round from blossoming life, the reality that against all odds I have a little miracle inside of me.  I will miss this part my dear one.  Very much.

It is still unreal to me that tomorrow I will hold you in my arms.  Tomorrow the hope and faith of you will become reality.  I don't know how I will feel when I see you...relieved, completely smitten as I was the first time I saw your sister, scared or just numb.  That is my biggest fear. That I will feel numb from the overwhelming emotion of the last nine months and especially the last week.  I want feelings that live up to the heartache we have endured to have you.  I don't want it all to have been for nothing,  I want joy and overwhelming love at the sight of you sweet girl and I fear I may not be able to feel those things because of recent circumstances.  Maybe I just still can't believe you are real.  I feel you.  I know you are in there but my heart has been hurt for so long, perhaps I have forgotten how to feel pure joy. Perhaps you will remind me.  That is my hope. 

This is the last day that I will carry you.  I will never again carry a child but because of you amazing baby I will end my child bearing days with sweet victory over this struggle.  Tomorrow I will see you.  I will know you. We will start our life together.  I can't wait to hold you, kiss you, feed you, rock you, sing to you, tickle you, see you laugh and smile, watch you grow up, walk, talk, play and grow into the amazing little girl God has destined for you to be.  I can't wait for Christmas mornings, notes in your lunch box, Halloween costumes, first days of school, late night cuddles when you are afraid, Saturday morning pancakes and cartoons, Friday night movies and popcorn, vacations on the beach, I can't wait for life with you.  You are life.  You come to us when we need you most.  You are our sunshine amidst the storm.  You are proof that God gives just what we need, just when we need it.  You are love.  You are a fighter.  You are our girl and a special angel watches down from heaven as you come to us tomorrow.  I can see her smile, see her tears of joy.  I can hear her voice and feel her hug me at the sight of you.  I can see her holding you, gazing with a look of pure love.  She would literally rather have died than for you to not have made it here.  She prayed for you and God answered her prayer, my prayer, so many prayers.  This is the last day I will carry you.  But tomorrow is the first day of your LIFE. Enjoy this gift that has been given to you, the gift of life.  Enjoy it, treasure it and honor God with it.  Be happy.  That's what she would want and that's what I want.  There is no pressure to live up to the standards of a miracle baby.  You don't have to do anything but just be you and be happy.  And though this is the last day I will carry you inside me, tomorrow starts a life time of me carrying you in my arms, carrying you through trials, carrying you in my heart the way only a mother can.  I will carry you forever and I will love you always and forever and no matter what.

Emotional Pregnant Lady - Party of One

We sit in church this morning and I sob so hard that the girl (who I don't know) sitting in front of us hands me a package of tissues.  A very sweet gesture and I gladly accepted one, but it was embarrassing none the less.  What prompted my 50th sob fest of the week...one of our Deacon's prayers during service for my mother in law.  I listen as he updates the church that Vickie is in her final days and will be going to heaven soon.  I think about my baby who is coming soon.  He starts to pray.  It hits me just the right way and the water works turn on.  This has been my life the past week, especially since my last doctors appointment.  Baby girl passed her bio with flying colors.  She's measuring great, 6 lbs 5 oz,  not too big, not too small.  I then sit and wait to see my doctor.  When she comes in she asks how I am doing.  She can tell just by looking at me how tired I am and then I go on to describe this pain I have been having in my stomach and how uncomfortable it has been (just muscles being stretched) .  So she says, "How do you feel about being induced?"  "Yes please.  Today please." I answer.  She says we can't do it yet but when I am 38 weeks we can.  I feel bad.  Is it awful to induce a baby early if you have no good medical reason?  What if she's not ready?  My doctor's answer is spot on...."After everything you have been through, why not?  No point in taking any chances.  She's ready.  You're ready.  Let's just do it".  October 23rd is the date she gives us.  Jason pulls out his phone and checks his calendar, "That day is good for me.  I don't have much going on."  I can't help but sigh and laugh a little...and gently remind him that even if he did have something going on he would cancel it...men :)

I feel relieved that our baby will be here in just 10 short days.  I even feel excited and happy.  But sadly, those positive feelings are hidden beneath a mountain of more powerful negative ones.  I worry that induction is not the right decision since we really don't have a good medical reason, I worry that she might not be ready and she will have complications after delivery, I worry about the effects pitocin could have on her.  I worry that I am taking this out of God's hands and putting it in my own.  I worry that Vickie will pass and Jason will miss our daughter's birth or I will be sitting in the hospital alone with my new baby while I miss her funeral. This is why I have been the most emotional pregnant lady ever.  The smallest things set me off.  I cry for no reason.  I think I am going crazy.  I try to talk to people about it but no one really gets it.  "Oh you are just hormonal and at the end.  Everyone feels this way at the end."  and then they go on talking about something else.  But no, everyone does not feel exactly this way at the end.  I  thank God for a therapist who has to listen to me (because I am paying her to :) and a husband who doesn't have to but does because he loves me.  My therapist asks me how I cope with such overwhelming stress.  I tell her I cry, I sleep and I shop...usually in that order.  She says that is actually a pretty good way to cope and I should keep crying, sleeping and shopping to my heart's content until my baby is born.  So I guess that's the plan for the next 10 days.

You may wonder why I agreed to be induced if I am so worried about it.  The answer is because I am just as worried about not being induced.  I do have gestational diabetes which is one good reason to induce early.  If I have her earlier Vickie may get to see her before she passes, another good reason for her to come a little early.  Really, I will worry no matter what plan of action we take.  But the thought of just waiting on one more unknown to happen all the way into 40 weeks is so daunting to me right now that I just can't help but want to be induced, even if it does scare me.  So this is it, the day I long thought would never come is fast approaching.  It terrifies me and excites me and elicits a full range of emotions all at once.  I am a ticking time bomb, just waiting for the tears to explode at any time.  But since I have professional approval from my therapist to cry as much as I want, that is what I will do.  I will cry this baby into my arms for 10 more days.  And I will keep sending up prayers that maybe I won't have to be induced or wait until 40 weeks...maybe, just maybe, she will decide to come early all on her own.  That is my prayer. 

I love you always and forever and no matter what.

P.S. In case you are wondering from my last post, I did finally get my new medicine, preservative free.  I started it about 5 days late and it was quite the ordeal learning how to use the weird contraption of a needle and needle dispenser.  The nurses couldn't even figure out how it worked.  In the end it was Jason who just grabbed it form the nurse, put the thing together in about 1 minute and said "There, that's how it works.  I will help you do it for the first time tomorrow.  Let's go."  (To anyone who knows Jason's father, does he remind you of someone??)  I guess 3 1/2 hours in the OB's office was enough for him.  So I am on my new medicine and though it still does not guarantee I will be able to have an epidural, my chances are much greater now :)

Beautiful Prayers

I sit here in my bedroom, fighting back tears.  Riley is down stairs watching TV, too much TV, but it is all I can do right now.  Just let her watch TV.  I am overwhelmed and angry.  I have to switch one of my medications this week, 36 weeks, because it is not safe to take it and have an epidural.  It could cause paralysis if I did.  So I am supposed to switch to one that is safe to take with an epidural.  I have to search and try five pharmacies before I can find one who has it and when I finally do the medication comes in multi dose vials that I have to draw myself, rather than the pre-filled single dose syringes I have been using with my old medicine.  I ask the pharmacist if these vials have preservatives in them as I know they usually do.  He says he will check and call me.  Sure enough, he calls me back later and tells me it does have a preservative that is not recommended in pregnancy.  I research it and the FDA clearly states pregnant women should not take this preservative.  I am so mad.  I have to check, check and check again all the time or doctors and pharmacists will just give you this stuff without a second thought.  So I refuse to take the medicine and have a call into my doc to get a script for the preservative free form of the medicine.  This could take days.  I will keep taking my old medicine until then.  If I go into labor in the mean time then no epidural for me, which actually seems like a pretty good idea right now.  Anything that poses a risk of paralysis to me and harm to my baby is just not worth the pain relief.  I have been through enough pain just getting to this point.  I'm sure I can handle labor and delivery without pain meds.  All this just makes me feel anxious.  I don't want to have to take all these meds and worry about them hurting my baby or paralyzing me...can't I Just have the baby now??!!  Babies born at 36 weeks do quite well I am told. 

My mother in law is in her final days the hospice nurses tell us.  7-10 days is what they expect.  A baby, a birth, a new life.  A death, a good bye, an ending.  All at once.  It is so much.  It overwhelms me.  I fear every day that I am going to lose my baby.  This past week has actually been harder than the last several months.  I am so far.  I can't lose her now.  The stakes are so high and so the fear is much worse.  I just want her here safe and healthy...now.  And I don't want to take any more medicine that could hurt my baby but "the benefits outweigh the risks".  Great, that is a lovely place for a mother to be in...this medicine could hurt your baby.  Yet, if you don't take it, you could lose your baby all together. 

I think of the lyrics to Amy Grant's "Better Than a Hallelujah":

God loves a lullaby
In a mother's tears in the dead of night
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes

God loves the drunkard's cry
The soldier's plea not to let him die
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes

The woman holding on for life
The dying man giving up the fight
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes

The tears of shame for what's been done
The silence when the words won't come
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes

This describes my prayers for the past five years, but especially lately, not so much words formulated into sentences and requests put before God.  But more desperate pleas, cries in the middle of the night (or afternoon while your child is watching too much TV).  Prayers come in the form of exhausted sighs, feelings that have no words to describe them, broken prayers that Jesus takes to God and makes perfect on my behalf.  I hope God really does love those kinds of prayers better than a hallelujah sometimes because He has been getting a lot of them from me.  What do you pray for when your husband's mother is suffering and has no quality of life...a miracle or mercy that takes her swiftly?  What do you pray for when your choice is to take a drug that may hurt your baby but if you don't you could lose your baby?  How do you ask God over and over and over to please bring your baby safely into your arms without starting to feel like a broken record?  I suppose you don't. And your prayers become formed out of "the beautiful mess we are and the honest cries of breaking hearts".  Thank you God, that you can turn my mess into a beautiful prayer. 

I love you always and forever and no matter what.