We went in lastnight for an ultrasound. Doctor ordered. He was thinking since I am so sick that perhaps we had more than one baby chillin’ in there.
Well, we only have one little gummy bear .( Which is just fine with me!!!) We did get to see and hear the little gummys’ heartbeat! It doesn’t take away all of our fears or worries about bringing this little gummy home. But it did give us a little peace and lots of huge smiles!!!
For two weeks now my days go a little something like this….
Get up and race to the bathroom to throw up.
Stumble back to bed where I try to find a position that will be somewhat comfortable and will somehow make the nausea stop , if even, for just a minute.
Race from bed back to the bathroom and throw up.
Take my Zofran and my Reglan.
Back to bed where I try to sleep.
Back to the bathroom to throw up yet again.
You get the general idea, right?
I cannot keep anything down. Not water. Not toast. I’ve already been to the hospital where they put two bags of IV fluids back into me.
I have done this with each pregnancy. It is awful and miserable. I feel like I lose all connection with my sons, my family and my husband during these times.
But none of this compares to what the nurse said to me when I went to the hospital last week.
She said,” You know when you’re this sick it means that your baby is super strong and healthy, right? So this is a good thing! It means everything is okay.”
It took everything in me not to fall apart. I smiled and said,” Yeah. I used to believe that was true.”
And I did….before Ethan passed away I always believed. I believed everything would be okay. I believed and assumed I would hold my new baby. That I would bring him home. That I would see him laugh and coo. That I would watch him crawl and then walk. I never had a reason not to believe in these very simple , yet taken for granted moments.
But now? Now I just pray and hope that this little baby will come home with us. Now, I just walk and ease thru this new pregnancy as if I am walking on a floor of eggshells. Afraid to get too excited. Afraid to pick out a name. Afraid to do anything that will jinx this new baby.
I am, instead, choosing to believe in the small things right now. Like, the fact that I am so sick doesn’t necessarily mean everything is fine with the baby. But it does reassure me that this baby is alive and with me . And that is enough for me right now….at this moment.
I’m pregnant!
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
I’m really pregnant!
And. I. Am.Really.Freaking.Out.
I’m excited….please don’t get me wrong. But I’m scared. After losing Ethan I am terrifed. What if something goes wrong again? What if I never get to bring this baby home with me? What if I never get to hear his/her cry? Or smell that sweet baby smell?
What will I tell this baby about his/her older brother who left us over a year ago? How will I ever tell him/her about the brother they will never meet…never play with….never fight with?
I feel guilty. To be moving on…forward. No one can ever or will ever replace Ethan. So why do I feel so damn guilty right now? I’m afraid to be too happy about this new baby. I’m afraid to dream about the day he/she is born…to dream about first steps….first soccer games…first everythings. How awful is that? To be so afraid that if God sees me happy…he will take this baby away too.
So, for now? All I can do is take deep breaths…….
