Pregnancy PSA (not that anybody asked me)

Disclaimer...I have said and done all of the things I am about to say not to do, but I guess one thing you gain going through something like we've been through is perspective.

I've said before how hard it can be to know how to answer when someone asks if you have children, or now that I am showing (big time), if this is my first child.  What Parke and I went through is (fortunately) very, very rare...but I know or know of SO many people who either have trouble getting pregnant, have experienced a miscarriage, have used an alternative method to get pregnant etc. etc.. . asking just about anything on the subject of pregnancy can stir up some pretty serious emotion.

We all know better than to ask a woman when she is due. I still shudder in horror and bust out laughing when I think about a friend of mine, who upon running into another woman she thought was expecting, reached out and touched the acquaintance's belly and asked when she was due.  The woman responded that the baby was born about a month prior... so there my friend stood, WITH HER HAND ON THE WOMAN"S EMPTY (and apparently fairly swollen) STOMACH!!! What do you even do with that?

But sometimes even asking  "So, when are you going to start having kids?" can cause a crying jag.  Obsessing over "who does the baby look like?" can be a faux these days in case of in vitro or adoption.  What number child is this for you can be a tough question for some after a miscarriage or loss.  Or occasionally I will be a in a situation (shopping, eating out) where someone I will never see again asks if this is my first child.  Sometimes I don't want to get into it so I will just say yes (always whispering a little apology up above)...but if the person won't let it go ("oh! you have no idea what you are in for!" or "Aren't you lucky to be having a little girl first!") by the time we are finished talking I am exhausted, kicking myself for lying, and near tears.

So bottom line, if you come across someone and have no idea what their current situation on child bearing may be, probably best just not to bring it up at all.  If the person is either actively giving birth (or just mentioned that she was expecting), you can stick with the "Oh my gosh, you look fabulous...this child is so lucky to have such a beautiful, smart, fashion-savvy mother"...or something to that effect.  Once the child arrives you can rest assured that anything along the lines of "cutest baby you have ever seen" will thrill every mother in the universe.

It shouldn't be this hard, in a perfect world none of this tiptoeing around would be necessary.  But from
someone who knows what it feels like to brace yourself for a punch in the gut every time you meet somebody new...well, your kind and lighthearted comments will mean more than you know.

Thank you, Doctor

Today, I want to acknowledge how grateful I am for the doctors who have helped me through this pregnancy.  Last Friday, I had my 24 week appointment.  When the nurse went to measure my belly (technically, my "fundal height", but that word remind me of fungus so I will stick with belly), I was measuring 2 weeks behind.  The nurse assured me that was completely normal.  While I waited for my doctor to come in, I did some hardcore praying that she would do or say something that could stop the major freak-out currently in progress.

She came in, took one look at my face,asked me what was wrong and (after assuring me again that my measurement was completely normal, and that she was not worried at all) scheduled me to have an ultrasound within the hour.  It was Friday afternoon at 4:00 and she knew nothing was wrong, she could have easily said "we'll keep an eye on it" and sent me on my way.  She could have left me to worry and stress and cry.  Instead, she told me that if there was EVER anything she could do to help my peace of mind, I just needed to ask.  Gracie looked beautiful...she is a whopping 1 lb 6ozs and right on track in the 48th percentile. My (and probably especially Parke's) weekend was saved.

And that has been what my medical care has been like with this pregnancy.  The doctor I saw for the first 12 weeks with Gracie, before I made the necessary change to my high risk practice, still checks on my ultrasounds and calls to give me extra encouragement after each one.  One of the doctor's at my high-risk practice took the time to look me in the eye and say, "we're not going to let anything bad happen to you".  I have worked with a genetic counselor who stood outside of the ultrasound room door, late to a meeting, just to make sure that my baby looked okay so that she could reassure me.

I met with my current doctor after I lost Rip and before I got pregnant with Gracie.  She told me then that 95% of this pregnancy would be mental.  She has taken the time to treat the mental right along with the physical.

I know these days doctors have to be careful about what they say, a potential lawsuit could be around any corner.  That's what makes what these doctors have done even more special...they have taken the time to do things, maybe not in their job description, but things that may have made all of the difference to the health of me and my baby.  For that, I need to say thank you.

A little peace here, a little joy there

I, along with everyone else, watched a lot of 9/11 coverage this weekend.  There are plenty of people much more profound than I to write about anything specifically to do with that day, and I will leave them to it.  What struck me while watching all of the horrific and moving videos from that day now, ten years later, is how much more connected I felt.

The day the towers fell, I was alone in my college gym on the treadmill.  It was just after the first tower was hit, and I watched in disbelief as another plane hit the second tower.  That day, my twenty-year-old friends and I stayed glued to the coverage.  We were afraid, we were upset, we were sad.  But deep down it was happening to someone else.  What we were watching on TV, at least for me, was still unreal.  I went on with my life.

There is a period after a devastating loss where it is impossible to believe that anyone else has been through a loss as terrible as yours.  In a way it's true, because that loss is yours.  Last night, watching the videos of the towers fall, all that I could think about was that everyone that died that day was someone's Rip.

We attended a wedding this weekend, and while singing one of the hymns a verse stuck out to me. . ."Peace on earth and joy in heaven".  I don't think it matters who you are or where you are in life, but after you experience profound loss this statement sums it up.  I can't think of anything I want more than peace for those on earth, and to know that there is safety and joy for those in heaven. That is far from a new concept, but for me, the emotions behind it are different than they were ten years ago.  Peace on earth and joy in heaven.

In the Pink

Yesterday, someone mentioned to me that instead of always looking of the black and white, I should try to enjoy the "gray area" of my pregnancy...meaning I should try to keep it in the present instead of worrying about the past or trying to jump forward to the future.  I agree, but as I've mentioned before, the gray area of anything doesn't sound like somewhere I want to be.  So, in honor of Gracie, I will try to enjoy the "pink" of this pregnancy.

Before I got pregnant with Gracie, my doctor warned me that I would be a nervous wreck until I was home with my baby (and probably well after!) because we lost Rip after his birth...meaning there wouldn't really be a month or week that I could pass and believe everything was going to be okay.

This weekend, I will be 24 weeks.  This is a BIG milestone...it means that, although nobody would ever want this to happen, if I were to go into labor today there is a decent chance that my baby would survive.  My first instinct is to think of all of the things that could still go wrong...but the reality is, I am 24 weeks pregnant and everything is looking great.  I feel good, Gracie is (well, I am) growing daily, the weather is beautiful, and we have a fun weekend planned.  Things are pretty darn good "in the pink"...now I've just got to do my best to stay here.

You'll Find That Life Is Still Worthwhile

Growing up, I had a stint as a "guppy" on my local swim team.  It was a short stint...I was very concerned about looking like a graceful swimmer, pointing my toes and keeping a smile on my face, but for some reason the coach was unimpressed when all of that grace left me a good pool length behind everyone else.  I left for hobbies where I felt my talents would be more appreciated (I'll let you know when I find them).

Anyway, even now I can hear the coach's voice in my head "KICK KICK KICK!!!!!!"

It's those words I now hear in my head when I am lying there are night, waiting on Gracie to do just that.

I got what I asked for two nights ago when my internal "KICK KICK KICK's" apparently made it into her little head.  It was 3:00 in the morning when she got the party started and it was 5:00 am by the time she finally wore herself out.  My insides felt like spaghetti...but I sat there and grinned through the whole event.

I think that smiling is both over- and under-rated.  Some people think that if you plaster a smile on your face, you will be happy.  For me, it doesn't work that way.  But if I come across something that genuinely makes me want to smile...well, that make all of the difference in the world.

Laying there that night, feeling my baby move and knowing that she was okay... life was still worthwhile.

Tidings of Comfort and Joy

Even after I accepted that life was going to go on without Rip, I had pretty much come to the conclusion that happiness was just no longer in the cards for me.  I could not conceive that I would actually feel true joy again after losing him.

The acceptance phase for me has something to do with learning how to fit becoming "The girl who..." (lost her baby) into my life.   I had to learn how to fit that new piece of my life into what already existed.  It is not been easy, but I have found that "The girl who" can be happy.

Because that girl has a beautiful baby boy and a beautiful baby girl on the way.  That girl has faith, friends, and family.  That girl can still get so cracked up over ridiculous things that her husband can only shake his head.

Happiness is different now...I won't say that it has more meaning (happy is just happy, not complicated ), but I need it more now than ever.  I love those gut-busting moments.  My great-grandmother said that you have to find you own happiness and it's true.  You have to look for and find those happy moments, and I am so glad that I have been able to discover them again.

So while Rip's death has changed me in so many ways, I am at the point now where I able to have comfort and I am able to have joy...and I like to think my son has his hand in that.

Prayers of the People

So, taking a little break from my "stages" post...right when I get to the happiest one too! I think that is part of why I am writing today (and will write an "acceptance" post at some point)...today I woke up so happy...and I freaked out.

Yesterday, I was able to get all of my paperwork back from the doctor outlining my leave when Gracie arrives.  The doctor said we would most likely be doing a c-section on December 26th...can you think of a better way to spend the day after Christmas?! Beats any day-after sale I know about.

But as we get closer, and as it gets more and more real, I get more afraid.  We are SO close, and I just want this baby so badly.  Gracie's birth can't change Rip's loss, but it will be a cause for so much joy.  And I am so afraid something is going to come along and take that joy away.

So very selfishly, today I am asking for prayers. Prayers for health, prayers for normalcy, prayers to quiet my mind, prayers to be able to just enjoy this time.  I guess I am looking for that whole "peace that passes all understanding" thing.  I know so many people have and are praying for us, but it makes me feel like I am doing something to ask for these prayers today...and for someone who likes complete control (and is starting to realize just how little I actually have), that means a lot.

And it sounds cliche, but from the bottom of my heart...thank you.