Sitting here today at 37 plus weeks pregnant, I can’t even believe it. I think back to 22.5 weeks and how consumed by fear, controlled by the worry of being in pre-term labor, I doubted we’d ever get to 27 weeks, let alone 37 weeks. It is truly unbelievable, remarkable, and the answer to one of constant prayers. We have been blessed.
It is crazy to think I’ve gone from thinking please don’t come out baby girl, please stay inside, to… okay, you ready now? Momma is ready. Come on out! No seriously, its okay, time to come out!
On Sunday Jarrett, the kids and I were driving home and while the kids fought with each other in the back (isn’t that how all families are?), Jarrett and I attempted to have a conversation. Baby girl suddenly poked her foot out of my side in a way that pushed against my ribs and I said, “Jarrett feel her, she’s so strong” He reached over as she moved her hand across my stomach. He then start talking about how amazing it is we are this far. Looking back now, I find myself wondering if all the precautions we’ve taken are the reasons why we are here today. I have to believe yes. From the bedrest, to the mandatory “take it easy”, don’t lift anything heavy, stay immobile, progesterone injections, the Motrin to control contractions, the nifedipine (YUCK), the constant monitoring by the doctors. All of it…. So much extra intervention. Was it all necessary? I have to believe that each piece of this puzzle was critical in making sure we are here, at this moment today. As I sit and think about it, the last 8 months have been spent exactly as Laurie prescribed many many weeks ago… your job is to bake a baby. I guess that’s what I’ve done. And truly I feel like my great dream is now here waiting to be born.
Have the past 9 months been easy… nope. Not gonna lie, it was hard to lie around, to get used to doing nothing, to be okay asking for so much help, and to tell myself… don’t get stressed, remember what’s best for the baby. I feel and know I haven’t been the “mother” I would have liked to have been to Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle these last 9 months. Many nights I didn’t tuck the boys into bed, I was already in bed or laying around, so they’ve gotten use to Dad being their caretaker. He checks their homework, gives them directions, runs them around, he’s their go-to parent… the role I use to play. And there’s Isabelle, while I still try to stay involved with her, she still calls out for me, there were many mornings and evenings I didn’t take her to school, I’d put the TV on instead of playing with her (at least I laid next to her on the couch)and I barely got off the couch to do basic things, like brushing her teeth. I felt guilty for many months about the number of hours she spent watching TV. Guilt… guilt for what I wasn’t doing, guilt for what I was doing- nothing. It sounds silly, to say that’s so tough, but it made me feel like I wasn’t being the person, doing the job, I had signed up to do. As silly as that sounds, I realize the resounding messages I heard from Jarrett and my mother and father in law were right… “you have the most important job of growing that baby.” I guess they were right all along.
Sometimes I wish I could have been that superstar mom- the one who runs and maintains “abs” throughout pregnancy, juggles the work load at home, at her job, all the responsibility of the kids, AND grows a baby inside of her for nine months. Seriously, that’s what all the movies and commercials about pregnancy portray no? Then I remember what Laurie told me from early on… Angie, someone has to be the person who spends the majority of their pregnancy sick, throwing up, being put on bed rest, monitored weekly or more regularly, the one who has preterm labor, contractions and spends the majority of the pregnancy consumed by the worry about what could happen. Lucky you, this was your calling. Hearing Laurie put it to me that way, made me realize she’s right. There’s no need to “wish” I had something different. The truth is I actually lived my “wish” the last 9 months. I’ve wanted to experience pregnancy and giving life and that’s exactly what I got. Whom I to ask for anything else now.
As the end of my pregnancy is here, I can’t help but think about the person I was 6 years ago this very week. I was a 29 year old, married woman who wanted nothing more than to become a mother. After many attempts at failed fertility treatments, overcoming the challenges of watching my husband battle cancer, unsuccessfully awaiting an adoption placement for more than a year and a half, I was feeling like the world was against us. While I did my best to hold my head high, cling for hope and believe still my dream would come true, I wondered if I was really ever supposed to be a mom. And then, in the middle of my deepest doubt… we got the call. Jarrett and I had been selected to become the parents to two young boys… ages 3 and 4… Gabriel and Michael. In an instant my world changed, my dream became my reality and thus our story on this blog was born.
When I really sit down and think about it, the emotions of our life this past 6 years makes me feel weak in the knees. The highest of highs and the lowest of lows. And yet, in thinking about my entire life, these past 6 years have surely been the riskiest, the most challenging , the most stressful… but you know what else…. they’ve also been the greatest. I’ve never felt happier, more love and that I’ve got the “world by the tail on a downward pull.”- That’s what my grandpa Ray always says when he talked about his life with his wife of 60 years. He always recognized how great he had it and wasn’t afraid to share just how blessed he felt he was. I can’t help but feel the same way.
I dream about getting to meet our newest angel… the one who has given me hope in life again, the reason why I've pulled myself out of bed the last 259 days and done the best I could to take care of myself. She has given me hope and faith that the world can have joy after the loss of Noah. That my family needs me here just as much as I need them.
What a transformation I've undergone, not only physically, but also mentally and emotionally.
Speaking of the physical transformation.... I have never felt so huge. I've officially hit the "I'm uncomfortable stage." Moving is not the easiest, my feet ache when I walk, my back hurts, I eat Tums like I drink water, speaking of that water gives me heartburn, and I sleep, well I don't sleep is a better way to put it. And ask uncomfortable as I feel, it all disappears the minute we walk into the doctors office for our weekly ultrasound and get to see pictures of our little one. It makes every moment worth it.
And I tell myself it will be the same moment of holding her in my arms, that will make every moment of labor worth it. I can't wait for that feeling.
Here are some pictures of baby girl this week. As I watched her move about, breathing, drinking, stretching, sticking out her tongue and moving all across my belly this week, I couldn't help but think she looks like a newborn baby.
Gone are the days of her tiny structure with skin laying her bony features, now she looks like a chunky little baby with cute cheeks, thick arms and legs... like the Gerber baby. Looking at her picture I felt like I was looking at a newborn baby.... hopefully soon, I'll get to hold her and think that instead of looking at her through the screen.
I'm so in love with her. Who would have ever thought, we'd get this far. So many blessings, so much happiness.
Until next time,
Angie
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