a journal of our miracle journey…
an insight into how the pregnancy miracle is different after you’ve sailed through storms.
(if you missed it, you can read part one, two, three, four, five)
Twenty-five weeks |
After 30 hours of abnormal pain feelings… tests were done for early labour. Time spent in hospital was not a highlight. I remember ringing my mum on the forty minute drive to the hospital, it hit me, the baby could be coming, something could be wrong. Admitting it to my mum with a blunt refusal to believe that it was really bad. Doesn’t mean the tears didn’t fill my eyes when I did. I know what happens when things go wrong, babies don’t survive, and I couldn’t admit there was something wrong.
Though we worry, we stress- I’ve never really seriously entertained the thought that we would lose this baby. I’m on a wobbling balance board that I just get scared of the wobbling rather that lean too far one way or the other. I try each day to keep balanced, looking ahead rather than to the pit of despair below.
I also wish that doctors would learn… A guy walked in said all these scenarios. Then another man came in later and told me the complete opposite of the first, why? – The first was an intern and guessed. Walking in saying you’re a doctor means something. Ok maybe that’s harsh. I suppose my bias towards medicine comes out sometimes. Anyway- baby is still inside and all ok.
Twenty-seven weeks |
I exercised and I made the comment that perhaps I’m getting too big for this… I’m feeling massive. I’m feeling pregnant. And I’m feeling exhausted. I don’t go to boot camp anywhere near as much as I did before, but I can’t give up. I worked too hard for too long to give up. Plus I actually feel good to still be exercising. And after a class, I never regret it.
One of the ladies asked me about baby, how do I still exercise? Do I know what I’m having; am I excited? I think I commented I just want a heartbeat, a healthy baby. People who don’t know me don’t get that. They don’t get why a heartbeat, why simple life is most important, more important.
My trainer- who is brilliant and understands herself- asked me how my worry levels are going. I appreciate her so much. Worry comes and goes. Concern comes and goes. As I feel more movement and kicking it helps with the worry. But there are moments, overwhelming moments. I can’t describe it, but it’s overwhelming.
Twenty-eight weeks |
I made a decision; this baby is going to be ok. This baby will be born; this baby will live, because at some point you can’t live in fear anymore. I can’t live in fear anymore. I want to be excited about this baby. I want to feel joy. Pregnancy is tainted and will always be, but I can choose how much.
This is real; this miracle is real. I want to find the joy in that. I don’t want to miss it. We can be excited.
Doesn’t mean I can feel it right now, but I’m trying. Its not always easy, but I’m trying.
Thirty weeks |
Me pregnant this time and with big brother…..what do you think?
Things are not the same.
In the space of 48 hours two different couple friends of ours lost precious little babies. Both so longed for, both prayed for, both so wanted.
I can write about our miracle journey…. But I wish I didn’t have to have a miracle journey. I wish the term rainbow baby didn’t exist. I wish a pregnancy grief storm wasn’t an option.
Our heart broke alongside our friends, with raw understanding.
My heart broke.
Thirty-three weeks |
I weighed myself at my parent’s house at Christmas time, according to their scales I put on ten kilos over the three days of Christmas. It was not a good feeling, I came home, and its ok I hadn’t actually put on any. I wish weight and body image wasn’t such a big deal in pregnancy.
So I’m on a stupid no junk food challenge, does that contradict what I just said? I asked Daniel to do it with me, worst idea ever! He’s
suffering with me keeping me accountable and we haven’t caved yet.
I really mean it (well maybe) when I say it was my last boot camp yesterday; I’m very sore today! Slowly starting to put together the hospital bags, need to do that faster.
Grief is freshly around us, and our own excitement cant quite bubble through our own experiences just yet. But as baby plays my ribs like a xylophone, keeps me awake at night- I hope.
Hope for a life for our miracle.
Hope for a miracle for our friends. Hope for love to invade darkness. Hope for joy to find those around me that are without it. Not just from baby stuff… but from life stuff. There is so much going on in the worlds of people I love; depression, life changes, childbirth, loss, struggles, unanswered prayers, and new beginnings.
I might not be great at excitement or joy, but I can hope. So today, I will do that. I choose to hope for me, and I choose to hope for you.