What a Difference a Day Makes

It's been a heck of a 24 hours.  Yesterday, I had my last ultrasound with Gracie.  There was quite a language barrier between the tech and myself, and although I warned her she was dealing with a crazy woman who needed as much reassurance as possible, let's just say she did not heed my advice.

Granted, she didn't say anything was really wrong with Gracie, she just didn't tell me that there wasn't.  The session ended with her hustling me back to the waiting room, telling me the doctor would be with me shortly to go over the results.  Hysterics ensued, Parke was called and being the good husband that he is came right away, and there we sat waiting on the doctor.  Who came in and told us he didn't think we had anything to worry about.  This was more than enough for Parke, but I was beside myself. To put it mildly, I lost it yesterday.

It was one of the lowest points I've had since we lost Rip.  I was basically without faith, hope, trust...you name it, I didn't have it.  I was determined to cling to all of the scary maybes, it was and to an extent still is literally beyond me to believe that we could just be normal this time around, have a healthy baby and go home and live our lives... that is what I want more than anything in the world.

Enter my mom, and Parke, and my dad, and countless girlfriends I couldn't live without...all telling me that they believe with their whole hearts this baby is going to be fine.  Enter a 10:00 pm email from my doctor (who was not in the office yesterday), followed by a cell phone call this morning, telling me she also believes this baby is going to be just fine. What a difference a day makes.

It may be beyond me at this point to believe in the best.  But the lesson I have learned over and over again this year is that God knows when life gets to be much, and he sends just the right people to believe for you until you have the strength to drag yourself back up again.  So thankful for my people.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Last night, I attended our annual Christmas parade...it is one of my favorite holiday traditions and this year did not disappoint...lots of candy canes, colored lights and "what were they thinking" dance routines.

I could not help but remember the parade last year, it was held three weeks after Rip died.  Now, I can't imagine why we went, but I guess it was because it was what we always did and at that point normalcy was all we wanted.  It was my first "big" outing where I was going to be around kids. I made it through the night without crying. I remember calling my parents afterwards and being so proud of myself for that.

And then you fast forward 13 months.  It is almost unbelievable how much can change in so little time.  I sat there last night 9 months pregnant, after wondering last year if I would ever be able to get pregnant again.  I waved and cooed at babies when last year I couldn't even look too closely at anyone under the age to six.  I was able to talk about next year, what it would be like to come to that same parade with an almost one year old.

I know there is no need for a disclaimer here...Rip's loss and all that goes with it doesn't go away, ever.  But the ability to feel joy again when it seems like just yesterday I wondered if I would ever make it though a day without crying...to me, that is almost miraculous.

No wonder they call it the most wonderful time of the year.

She's Got...Man Hands

Lately, I'm a prime example of what Jerry Seinfeld was talking about when he referred to "man hands".

I've never had good looking hands...at best they are nondescript, if not a little on the meaty side.  But wow, nine months of pregnancy has taken them to a new level.  All of the fluid I am carrying around has turned my once under-the radar phalanges into ten big fat stuffed sausages hanging from two great slabs of beef (nice mental image, I know).  My wedding rings are a distant memory and my attempt to help matters with a manicure left everyone feeling a little squeamish.

Is having man hands for a few more weeks worth it?  Absolutely.  I feel sure all will return to normal once Gracie arrives...in the meantime, let me know if you need any shellfish cracked or hunks of meat de-boned.  Might as well put these suckers to work.

(Not my actual hand, but pretty darned close)

It's beginning to look a lot like baby...

Gracie's nursery is complete! Below is the finished product, I couldn't be happier with the way it turned out.

Kind of hoping she gets here before Christmas to enjoy her fabulous tree!

 My mom painted the zebra and Parke's mom sewed the bedding and the shades for us...Gracie has some talented ladies to live up to!

My great-grandmother's rocking chair, can't wait to be rocking away with baby in my arms

That's probably an understatement

Poor old brown dog, senses life as he knows it is coming to an end

The truth is...

Here is the honest truth...the closer we get to "D" day, the more terrified I get.

If I were to list everything that I have worried about today...even in the last hour...someone would haul me off to the asylum.

The bottom line is that we need this baby girl.  We need her to get here safely, to be healthy...to be ours.  Love and need this great is the scariest thing in the world.

If I've learned anything this year, it is that I am not in control.  I am doing everything I can possibly do to make sure that this baby arrives safe and sound, including annoying the living daylights out of my doctors (I am sure they all have little advent-like calendars, counting down to the day they have seen and heard the last of me!).  But at the end of the day, I can't control what happens next.

So somewhere in the midst of my fear, I have to let go...the only thing I can hold on to at this point is faith, and let me tell you, I am clinging for dear life.

Priorities

Making a list of what we have versus what we need before Gracie's arrival...

Crib sheets...none
Towels...not yet
Burp Cloths...no
Diaper Cream...nada

Three pairs of faux fur boots...check, check and check!

Big Day

12-1-11 is a big day in the Harris household...

First of all, it's our anniversary! Four years married, twelve (twelve!) years together.  You know how everyone always tells you marriage is hard work and blah blah blah.  Well, they're right, and this year has brought us a whole heaping of blah blah blah.  But you know what?  I am still excited to go home and see my husband every day.  I know that not everyone is that lucky, and I am thankful.

Happy Anniversary to a great husband and dad!

Also big in our world today..it is Gracie's birth month!! When I got pregnant with her, it seemed like this day would never come.  It's been a long, sometimes really hard, road but thank the lord we have made it this far. Only three and a half weeks until her arrival, scheduled for December 27th at 8:00 am...all good thoughts and prayers are GREATLY appreciated.