Today is a big day--literally. I am bigger and more pregnant than I have ever been. And yet, it is barely half of a "normal" pregnancy.
Beautiful comparison--Our sweet little guy at 26 weeks and his early bird sister at the same age and weight.
I have been intentionally vague and guarded with this pregnancy. I hoard doctor's and specialist's advice and ultrasound photos and carry my information close to my heart. I say things like "Our due date is in January, but my goal is Halloween. Then, we'll go from there." Honestly, I have been afraid to hope. I kept saying, "Once we hit 26 or 28 weeks, I'll start getting excited." Sigh...so here we are.
Being a high-risk pregnancy this time around has it's advantages (lots of cool technology and favorite sonographers who sneak you into the 3d room) and its disadvantages (you know EVERY potential thing that could be wrong with your baby.)
On top of our already huge risk of delivering early again, we knew very early that there could potentially be some "chromosomal abnormalities" with our son--some "soft markers" as they are called. (The range of chromosomal abnormalities is vast--from the low end, like Down's Syndrome to the frightening high end of trisomy.) The only way to know for sure would be an amnio, which for an already high-risk gal would pretty much guarantee an early delivery, even with a really talented team of doctors. SO, we wait...and I carry it close to my heart.
But carrying a burden by yourself, not to "worry anyone else" is a lot of work. It's exhausting and kills any joy. It's a lot of pretending and lot of fear and not very much fun. Playing it close to the vest has its price.
SO, I have realized more than ever the importance of my "tribe." You know--the friends and family that gather around you--in person and from far away-- to laugh and cry and bring you candy and tell you that modified bed rest isn't all that bad and to suck it up. The ones who allow you to feel sorry for yourself--but only for a minute and then tell you to put your big girl panties on and fix yourself a sandwich, while they sneak your toddler a lollipop they know full well you wouldn't let her have.
The ones that pray for and cry with you, but will also be happy to bail you out if you do actually punch the pregnant gal at the doctor's office who complains about being "too pregnant."
They hope for you when you are too scared to do it and they love big. They have enough faith to encourage you when you can't seem to find yours. You can try to hide from your tribe, but they find you. And I am so thankful for mine.
I hope this little boy knows how many people love and believe in him--it may even rival the fan club his big sister has.
So while we wait and hope, we are doing lots of playing in the leaves, swinging and enjoying these last beautiful days of sunshine.
I have taken great encouragement from this post on "The Hard Won Babies" written by Casey Mullins who writes at Moosh in Indy. As the mama of "hard won babies" I love it!
Also, if you want to still get in on helping my friend Casey Chappell's hard won babies make their way home, her giveaway is still open.
Thanks for reading and journeying with us!
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