Good days

This week has been a milestone...

not sure if its because the sun has been out 4 days in a row,

or because the temperature actually reached 40...

it may be the fact that I am 18 weeks along today,

or that it is finally March...

but something feels different~

in a good way.

A few months after Will died,

another mom who lost her newborn told me that eventually the pain does dull a bit.

But she was also 5 years into the process,

and I wasn't even 5 months.

I would have to admit that while I do feel differently,

it isn't because I love Will any less or because this whole situation

has gotten "better"...

it really doesn't work that way.

Its because we have a new sense of normal.

We have a routine...

and now we also have a renewed sense of hope with this baby.

A huge and hopefully happy event to look forward to.

During Will's pregnancy, the night of my 18th week marked my

2nd trip to the ER...

my 1st overnight stay in the hospital...

and the 1st time a doctor told me the baby would die.

This time,

I am laying in my own bed.

Healthy and content,

saying prayers of thanks for yet another good day.

And that is all I ever really pray for anymore...

just a really long string...

of really good days.

Sevens

If I can recall, most people love the number 7.

My step-sister's birthday is 7.7

My friend got married on 7.7

I was always fond of the number 11,

kind of like when a digital clock reads 11:11

yes, I still knock on wood and make a wish.

Cheesy, but true.

Not that I think any number is necessarily lucky or not...

Now though, 7's sometimes get to me.

Will was born on 7.17

and today I am 17 weeks pregnant...

the exact same time in Will's pregnancy when I went to the bathroom at my parents house and knew things would never be the same.

Sevens...

Definitely the brand of my favorite jeans,

but that was always about it.

Now, I swear, every morning when I look at the clock can you guess what time it is?

7:17

Strange.

But not as strange as my inability to post the numerous blogs I have written in February.

Any guesses on how many half-finished thoughts/posts there are?

Oh yes....you guessed it.

7.

Where just all this rambling leave me?

Not quite sure.

Do I post the remaining 6 half-finished blog posts?

Not sure about that either.

The only thing I am sure about,

is that writing still helps with all of this.

"All of this" meaning all the emotions I am experiencing on the roller coaster.

And I need to write more...

and consistently.

So expect to see some changes here,

maybe a little design makeover...

because this whole blogging thing is about to get more serious.

I had a revelation the other night.

Just why do I pour my innermost thoughts and feelings

out into the Internet world for anyone to read?

I certainly didn't start blogging for this reason.

But this is where the path led,

and so I am following it. 

I never sought it out,

it just happened...

And that leaves me with a choice:

Either go through all this and keep it bottled up...

a hidden secret like most people.

Or...

put it all out there.

Take a chance and go to where I am being led.

In a hope of healing myself,

but most importantly...

maybe giving someone else hope.

What can I say?

All these 7's are urging me to take a little chance.

A gamble, that maybe things could change.

And that is a chance I have to take.

Lent

If there has been any sort of trend in my life since Will's death...

it has been the fluctuation of time.

It either goes by in a blur and suddenly much time has passed,

or it drags by.

Lately, it has been like I go to bed and when I wake up...the week is over.

This is a very good thing right now.

I have reached a point where I am trying very hard

to not let being pregnant and the timing of the week I am in,

control my thoughts and actions.

But it isn't that easy.

16 weeks.

At this time with Will, we were moving from CA to MI. And I felt great.

At 17 weeks, things began to go horribly wrong...

and at 18 weeks my water broke and I found myself in the hospital being told my baby would die...which didn't happen until much later and we all know that story.

So...

Its been difficult not to worry.

Which brings me to my thought of the day.

What to give up for lent?

This crossed my mind at the grocery store today,

as I shopped for healthy (low carb-low fat-low processed-low fun) food.

Then I thought, "screw it..." and threw a bag of Easter blow pop suckers into my cart.

I could see how this was going to go.

Everyone seems to give up something food related:

pop, candy, junk food...

but I kind of gave most of that stuff up a really long time ago.

Then I considered giving up lots of different things,

that really weren't realistic: eating out, occasional swearing, the McDonald's drive-thru...

After thinking about each of these, my immediate response was, "Yeah, right."

So, then I came to my idea of letting go or giving up worrying.

It can be done,

and it will be a challenge.

But an even bigger challenge?

How does one even know if they are not worrying...

Sigh.

All I can say is that Easter better hurry up and get here.

Yay for February...

When I woke up yesterday morning and realized it was no longer January...

I was thrilled.

But today,

its snowing...gross.

This is the time of year, when I am not thrilled to see snow ~ but disgusted.

When we lived in SoCal, January didn't hold the same contempt

as it does now...because honestly, it felt the same as any other of the 11 months out there.

Sunny and perfect.

Groundhog's day...

the term Tim & I referred to explain how every single day felt and looked the same,

to someone who is from the frozen tundra like us.

But now?

I can't stand January.

So I am super glad its February...a short month too.

I am looking at the passing of months as a big deal right now.

In March we have our 3-D ultrasound with Dr. Risky.

And in April the baby is viable.

Which is something I was blissfully unaware of until Will.

In May...it will be warmer...

followed by June.

And my goal is July.

The official due date is Aug. 5th,

however, since I have to have a c-section...

the latest I will be pregnant is until 38 weeks.

I've already done the math,

Will's anniversary days fall real close.

So that is a possibility.

We'll worry about that later.

Until then, I am focusing on February.

Next week, Tim is flying to Jersey for work.

He is nervous to leave me, yet I am quick to remind him that 4 days hardly compares to 2 deployment tours that lasted between 6 and 7 months.

Perspective...hello.

And even when I was in the hospital with Will,

he was forced to go for nearly 2 weeks.

I could have gone into labor any time,

yet they made him go for work.

Looking back, I don't know how we made it through without completely flipping out.

So I guess I can handle a little snow right now...

it makes laying low even easier.

Who wants to go out in the nasty cold and slush?

Not me.

So until winter truly begins to thaw,

I will eat and take naps...and say a prayer of thanks for each uneventful day.

emotions

This is the last week of my 1st trimester.

With each week that passes, I have a mix of emotions.

On one hand, I am relieved...

at the same time even more terrified.

One more week of invested time...

one more week for this baby to grow bigger.

This time of year, also reminds me of the timing of Will's pregnancy.

And even after those milestone weeks pass,

it won't bring comfort.

I know too many stories...

and that is a constant reminder that there is never a "safe" point in having a baby.

I have let myself begin to imagine just what it must feel like to actually bring a baby home.

To have a c-section and then hear crying...

instead of a doctor's voice telling me it doesn't look good.

What does that feel like?

All I know is pain.

It hampers my heart in feeling joy.

What does it feel like to be wheeled into recovery with your arms full...instead of empty?

I want to know that joy...

but my reservations prevent me from hoping for something that huge.

Its happened once already,

will God keep it from happening again?

I am not brave enough to face these questions alone...

so I pray constantly.

In losing Will, I also lost countless friends.

They were unable to share in my grief.

So I am even more grateful for the strong ones,

that haven't been afraid of me...

Haven't been afraid to see the tears and the hurt...

haven't been afraid to be a friend when I couldn't be one in return.

And its those friends that understand me even now...

They understand that while I am thankful for this baby,

I am also terrified.

And they get that,

they understand why and don't try to reason me out of it.

Someone told me everything would be "fine" the other day.

I kept my mouth shut,

while secretly in my head I pictured jumping over the table between us and slapping them.

My reason?

Obviously they needed a slap from reality...

and last time I checked,

none of us has a crystal ball.

I tend to stay away from well wishes like that (and the people that utter them).

Because they don't help.

Instead, I feel crazy for doubting...

when I need to feel comforted instead.

I know these emotions are justified,

because any person that could have been in that room with us...

on a hot Saturday night in July....as we lived an entire lifetime with our baby in just a few short hours, and then handed him to a nurse...

never to see him again on this earth...

would understand if they truly tried to.

If they dared to...

And its the people that put themselves there.

That allow themselves to feel our pain...

and live their lives better because they know what we have been through,

by cherishing each day with their kids,

and knowing how lucky they are to be pregnant...

and not taking any of it for granted...

the holding and cuddling,

watching their child grow...

the bedtime stories and baths...

everything that I miss doing each day...

Its those people, that give me the hope and strength to wish

and hope

and believe...

that in the end,

its all going to be worth it.

Because they have shared in our sorrow,

and now are eager to share in our joy.

Seeing things...

Today was my 4th doctor's visit.

On Friday I had my 3rd ultrasound.

I am thankful to say that everything looks good,

and the spotting that happened over a week ago was minimal and has gone away.

Let's hope for good...

we don't need any more of that crap.

At my ultrasound, they were very thorough.

Of course, since this always happens to me,

there was a doctor in training.

I can say that I am patient about things like that,

especially with being a teacher...

but when they are doing an internal ultrasound and moving that thing all over I was about ready to punch someone...

then I saw the baby on the screen.

What a mover!

In a mere 10 days it went from looking like a gummy bear,

to what you see now.

A miracle.

So I momentarily forgot about being tortured,

and focused on the screen.

With each kick, I fell in love.

With each kick I also thought I saw something...

Without taking my eyes off the screen,

I said to the doctor,

"So I know its totally too early to tell what sex the baby is...but, uh...well, I think I am seeing something every time it moves."

The doctor laughed and said,

"Oh, you noticed that? I saw it too."

There was a lump in my throat...

"Are you telling me you think its a freaking boy?!?"

He got serious again...

"Yes, that is what I am thinking. Let me know if that is how it turns out. In all my years I have never seen anything this early on a 10 week ultrasound."

I didn't know whether to be proud or mortified.

Once out of the office, I called Tim.

He just laughed...

"Did you tell them you were married to a Marine?"

Now I love my husband, 

but this is just a typical comment that I would normally never repeat to anyone else.

Seriously.

But he does still make me laugh...

We'll find out for sure just who is in there at my 18 week ultrasound

at Dr. Risky's office.

Until then, we have a preview.

Regardless, I am thrilled no matter what the sex is.

I just want a healthy baby, and a healthy pregnancy.

We have started discussing names,

this is a challenge.

But for right now, we have plenty of nicknames:)

New Year...new hope

Time is still getting away from me.

I have to keep writing,

things are going so fast and I want to remember this time.

Our New Years Eve was uneventful.

We had a dinner out with my family,

where I stuffed my face with various crappy foods

that I shouldn't be eating.

(Why does everything have to be fried here?!)

Then paid for it later when I couldn't stay awake

at our friends NYE party and had to go home at 10:00.

I'm such a loser.

My time has been spent battling sickness,

severe fatigue...

and hunger pains that come on so strongly that I would willingly take out any poor soul that got between me and whatever food I had to have at that exact moment.

Tim has learned from Will's pregnancy,

not to question my cravings.

He has been wonderful.

And despite being stuck in bed a lot of the time,

I cherish this feeling...

because I know its a good sign.

And so we have survived our first week back to the "grind."

I have taken it easy after having a scare last Sunday.

Its strange how everything with Will has changed me.

Many of these changes are just coming to light.

On Sunday, when my worst fear happened...

I took a step back,

realized that I was doing everything in my power for this baby...

and simply let go.

I am not controlling this,

I am doing my best,

and giving the rest to God.

And to be honest, I am relieved.

The rest of the week went smoothly.

And tomorrow I have yet another appointment with my regular doctor.

They will also do another ultrasound due to the circumstances of earlier this week.

But I am calm,

and taking one day at a time.

That is the only way I know how to live anymore,

and that is fine with me.