8 Days

In 8 days we will celebrate the day that Jesus died for our sins. 

And I sure hope Good Friday lives up to its name.

In 8 days, I will be having surgery.

I'm very confident in the procedure and even more confident in my doctor but I'm still feeling a little bit of apprehension. 

I went to visit my doctor yesterday and while I knew we would be scheduling the surgery, I didn't expect it to be scheduled quite so soon.  I expected it to be the week after Easter.  And when she first said the word Friday, I got so excited that I wouldn't have to take as much time off from work that I didn't really realize how soon Friday is.  In fact, I don't think it really dawned on me until last night as I was going to bed.  That's when I started thinking really thinking about how soon it is. 

But in a way, I'm glad that it's soon.  I'm glad that we can get past this part of the pregnancy and move on.  I'm glad that in 9 days, I will be done with surgery and (hopefully) able to focus more on a LONG pregnancy. 

My appointment was fairly routine.  My doctor tried to find the heart beat with the dopplar but only heard 3 or 4 beats so she sent me to ultrasound just to get a peek.  So I got an unexpected look at the baby.  And since it is a pretty good picture, I want to introduce all of you to Baby #2 (who I still think is a girl!).

Oh, and the heart beat was fine at 175 bpm.

Inspired

I love to read.  I've talked about it before.  Mostly I read for entertainment, but lately I've read a couple of inspirational books and one or two grief support books.  And they've been great reads.  But today as I was reading, I was blown away by a paragraph in one of my "entertainment" books and I just had to share it.  It's kind of long, but it's worth reading.

"Grief can destroy you--or focus you.  You can decide a relationship was all for nothing if it had to end in death, and you alone.  Or you can realize that every moment of it had more meaning than you dared to recognize at the time, so much meaning it scared you, so you just lived, just took for granted the love and laughter of each day, and didn't allow yourself to consider the sacredness of it.  But when it's over and you're alone, you begin to see it wasn't just a movie and a dinner together, not just watching sunsets together, not just scrubbing a floor or washing dishes together or worrying over a high electric bill.  It was everything, it was the why of live, every event and precious moment of it.  The answer to the mystery of existence is the love you shared sometimes so imperfectly, and when the loss wakes you to the deeper beauty of it, to the sanctity of it, you can't get off your knees for a long time, you're driven to your knees not by the weight of the loss but by gratitude for what preceded the loss.  And the ache is always there, but one day not the emptiness, because to nurture the emptiness, to take solace in it, is to disrespect the gift of life."
--Odd Thomas, Odd Hours by Dean Koontz

Wow!  That's all I can say.  Maybe it didn't touch you the way it touched me.  In the quote, Odd is talking about the loss of a spouse or significant other, but it seems to fit every loss to me, the loss of a parent, child or just a good friend.  And as much as it makes me think about the short time we had with Logan, it also makes me think about my parents, my sister, Doug, and some of my best friends.  Because the fact is that eventually I will lose them, or they will lose me.  And it won't matter if we had 100 years together, it won't have been enough time. 

I am praying every day that we all learn to appreciate every moment of our lives and not to take any part of it or any person in it for granted.

My Lesson?

Lately, I've been wondering what God is trying to teach me in all of this.  Considering our struggles, I can't believe that it's just a coincidence that the dates for this pregnancy match up exactly with the dates of my first pregnancy.  So He must be trying to teach me/show me something.

And yet this pregnancy has been so very different.  I've been nauseous all the time, get heartburn when I drink water (much less eat anything of substance), and crave sweets when last time sweets were the only thing that made me sick.

I said last time that I didn't care what gender the baby was, but I secretly wanted a boy.  I wanted my oldest to be a boy so that he could look after his younger siblings in a way that no girl can do (at least in my mind).  And the truth is that I got exactly what I wanted.  A big brother who will be watching over his younger sibling(s) in every way.  And this time, I still say I don't care what gender the baby is and that is the honest truth, but there is a part of me that wants a girl.  It's the part of me that's scared that come June I'll be back in the hospital and then visiting the NICU.  That part of me wants a girl because I know the odds are against little, white boys and slightly favor little, white girls. 

And yet, it has occurred to me that I don't just want a little girl.  I want my two-year-old son here AND a little girl.  I want to be able to completely erase the fears of prematurity and be like most other 2nd-time mothers I know who are more worried about how they are going to afford childcare for two or deal with two kids crying at the same time than whether or not they'll get the chance to hold the baby when he/she is born.

And that is honestly all I am thinking about right now.  When I found out I was pregnant the first time, I hit all the baby websites and started thinking about the perfect delivery.  Having my family there, delivering naturally and possibly even without an epidural and having Doug hand me this baby just minutes after it was born.  When Logan was born he was whisked away within minutes and all I got was a drug-fogged glance at my son and Doug wasn't even there. 

So this time around, I'm not worried about who will be in the delivery room, how I'll deliver, or whether or not I'll get the drugs, my sole wish for delivery is that I get to hold this baby, even if it's just for a minute or two, before the nurses take her (or him) away.

Some people have been telling me not to worry about what happened last time, that I need to relax.  All I can say is that is like telling someone who has been attacked by sharks, "Oh, don't worry about these sharks, they wouldn't hurt a fly".

And it makes it so much more difficult that the days are the same.  Logan was born on a Friday and the Friday before his birthday (which is on a Sunday this year) I will be 24 weeks 6 days, which is how far along I was the day that he was born.  So there must be some lesson in this.  And I've been searching for it.

And I guess I'll keep searching until God decides to clue me in!