As the 33 week mark draws near (Wed), I'm finding myself panicking at least once a day, often more. Fortunately though, every time I do start to panic, within a few moments, baby boy responds by moving and I can breathe a sigh of relief.
I had a wonderful moment this morning, followed by a moment of sheer panic. Nellie came for a snuggle in bed this morning before G got up to make me pancakes in bed (he has NEVER made me pancakes before!). As she and I were cuddling, I suddenly became aware of baby boy being part of that hug, and then of Zoe on my other side. It was such a warm, happy feeling - all my children with me, all happy, all loving me. I wish I could have bottled that moment; it was so precious.
A few moments later though I wondered to myself whether the reason that I felt Zoe's presence was because baby boy won't be with me much longer, and God wanted to give me at least one special moment with all my kids together. Cue panic.
People keep telling me to be positive, to trust that all will be well. While I appreciate they're trying to help, I wish they'd say nothing. I am trying to be positive, but however positive I am, that makes no difference to whether this baby will live or die. That decision is entirely up to God, and no matter how positive I try to be, it's a decision that is out of my hands. I was terribly optimistic about Zoe, because she'd managed to stay put till week 37; because the scan on the Wed showed that all was well with her and me. Look at how that positivity turned out.
I will treasure that moment this morning for a long time, but doing so does not alleviate my fear and paranoia. I'm getting to the stage where I want to have a monitoring belt permanently attached. If this baby is going to die, there will be no warning, no indications. He will be here one moment, and gone the next, but I want to know when that moment will be. There is no way to prevent it (other than what I am currently doing in terms of taking my meds), and therefore there is no way to reduce my fear.
Trust in God, everyone says. Hmm... trust in him to do what, exactly? Keep this baby alive? I don't know why God decided not to let Zoe live, so I have no idea whether he might make the same decision with this baby, or not. I am in completely uncharted waters here. While I trust in God to do whatever is best, I have next to no faith that he won't make the same decision again, that him choosing not to let this baby live is what is best. So how exactly do you want me to trust in God? God is sovereign. If he chooses to take this baby, or if he chooses to let him live, the extent to which I trust him is not going to change the outcome. All I can trust is that God is faithful. If he does take this baby, then he will help me cope; he will get me through it, eventually. I'm not sure how, but I trust he will. That trust, though, does not alleviate my fear that God's plan is to take this baby.
I guess that knowledge made that moment this morning all the more precious. If he is going to take this baby, then at least, for that one moment, I had all my children with me, and what better day on which to have it than Mother's Day.
So I'm grateful, even though the thought that that may have been the last moment on this earth that my children were all together scares me witless. Small mercies...
As for the rest of the day, well, it was nice, but nothing spectacular. I didn't feel particularly treasured, or appreciated. Nellie is ill - she's going to the doc tomorrow to get something. She's been ill for about 2 weeks now, but was getting better last week. Then, suddenly, yesterday, she developed a fever. Today, she was completely lethargic... quite scarily so. At one point I was ready to rush off to ER with her.
The time we had with my mom she was asleep (she slept from about noon until about 3pm!) and I was constantly keeping an ear out for her to wake or cry, and worrying that she'd hardly eaten or drunk a thing all day (up till that point) and wondering whether she was getting dehydrated. (A mother's lot in life, I guess!) The time we had with G's family I spent entertaining her and so not interacting with anyone else. I'm not complaining about that - I loved the hugs and cuddles and snuggles... but having to remind/ harass others to get me stuff to eat/ drink or fetch my bag, etc because I couldn't get up, and not having a decent conversation with any of his family for 2 hours, well... that wasn't really how I envisaged mother's day....
So, now I'm off to bath my baby and get her into bed. Then I'm off to bed myself. Sleep cures a million ills, I figure!
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