Tough

I know I haven't blogged in forever.  The pictures are just accumulating and the motivation is, well, absent. I remember being pregnant with Nate and loving absolutely every minute.  From the moment I saw two lines on that stick, I thought about that miracle baby growing inside of me.  I talked to him, rubbed my belly, wore maternity clothes long before I needed to.  He was a part of my every thought.  I also spent virtually my entire last year of nursing school pregnant; Nate was released from the NICU on the day Alan and I graduated.  I worked hard, did clinicals and classes, and still managed to graduate Summa cum Laude.  Looking back, comparing that pregnancy to this one, I wonder if I was stupid, naive, or if I've just become ridiculously jaded now.  Nate's pregnancy wasn't easy.  I was sick until 19 weeks, had some pretty wicked migraines, and then got Preeclampsia and HELLP which lead to bedrest, a 31 wk. induction and a baby who spent 5 weeks in the NICU, all while Alan and I tried to take finals and finish school.  But I loved being pregnant despite it all.

My second and third pregnancies started much like Nate's did.  I was sick, vomiting, but so excited to be having another baby. When they both ended in miscarriage, the first at 8 wks and the second at 12 wks, I was completely heartbroken.  Devastated is an appropriate word.  When I got pregnant with Abbie, I was terrified.  I was certain I'd lose her and didn't let myself get attached in the least.  I bled from 7-22 wks with Abbie, something that only certified in my mind that she'd never make it to term.  I spent wks 19-29 on bedrest with placenta previa, then 31-37 on bedrest with preterm labor.  By 31 wks, I was dilated to a 4 and spent the remainder of my pregnancy contracting nonstop.

When I found out I was pregnant again this last summer, I was so happy because we had waited so long to have another baby.  But I was also scared, nervous to think about the baby, worried that we would lose it too.  And we did.  But it wasn't any easier, despite my constant thoughts that it might end that way.  When I saw the two lines on the stick with this baby boy I'm carrying now, I cried.  I sobbed to Alan, not because I was so happy, but because I was utterly terrified.  I wasn't sure I could handle another loss, another dream wiped away.  On Thanksgiving, when I found myself dripping blood, I honestly cursed God for allowing it to happen again, especially on a day where we were supposed to be expressing our gratitude for all of our many blessings.  But then in the ER, when my doctor pulled up a tiny picture of my baby, and I saw the profile of his face and his tiny arms moving around, I cried again. This time it was because of joy and love.  The bleeding has continued since then, coming and going, and only adding to the worries in my head.  I've been sicker with this pregnancy than any of the others, losing weight and needing Zofran to be able to ingest anything.  I'm 19 weeks now, and while I have a few good days here and there, I am still sick.

Pregnancy is such a roller coaster.  I want to feel how I felt about Nate.  I want to be attached to this boy and think about him constantly.  I want to do accomplish things, keep my life going like there's nothing in my way.  But I find myself wondering all the time--How did I do it?  How on earth did I do nursing school?  I'm just so tired all the time now.  How did I keep such a happy and positive attitude throughout all of that?  Maybe I was naive, not having enough life experience at 22 to fully understand how wrong things could go.  But maybe I'm struggling too much now.  How do I know?  How do I decide where to walk on that fine line between hoping for something so desperately that you fall in love with him and knowing that he could be erased from my life at any time?  I know that there's no right answer.  I just wish that I could have the pregnancy of my dreams--Where I could have had a huge family, no losses, no sickness, no bedrest, being supermom to my other kids while growing babies until I'm too old to have anymore.  I have learned that that is not in the cards for me, but I think that when I meet God one day, I'm going to ask him why.