Sunday, June 07, 2009

A sense of humour loss

I think I've lost my sense of humour. Browsing through my recent posts, they all seem so serious. I know I've laughed a lot recently, both long and hard, but always at stuff other people have said. Somehow I seem to have lost my sense of humour when it comes to reflecting on my own life (which I tend to do in blogging). I'm not sure how that happened, or why, but I'm hoping it returns soon.

Actually, thinking about it, I think I can probably guess why. It's called panic. While I'm very excited about going into hospital tomorrow, a large part of me (that I'm trying very hard to ignore) is quietly panicking that this baby is going to die. Thus far, he's been active and healthy, but because all that can change in the blink of an eye (he could go from alive & healthy to dead in less than 20 minutes), I'm too scared to believe he's going to be okay until I can see his eyes open and hear him take a breath.

Is that a lack of faith? I'm not sure. I know that God understands, though. He understands my frailty. He's seen my tears, heard my pleas, felt my fears. He also knows that I know that this process is in his hands alone. There is nothing I can do to change the outcome. What will be, will be. Choosing to hang onto my fear is more about trying to protect my heart than anything else.

Unless someone has lost a child, I don't think they can understand my mind-set. I believe that God can save this child. I believe that God wants to save this child. However, those two facts together do not mean that God WILL save this child. That's the lesson I learnt with Zoe.

I feel like the sword of Damocles is hanging over my head, and that with each passing hour it drops closer to me. Only when my child is born, and alive, will I feel we are free and will I be able to fully experience the excitement of his birth. I just know I'm going to sob a LOT in the next few days and hours - either from sheer relief and joy, or from extreme heartbreak.

Oh dear God, let him be born alive. Please. Please.

I have no fear of the labour, although I'm not looking forward to the pain and although I keep wondering how I got through the last two. My only fear is that I'm going to go through this only to lose him. I guess contemplating the death of a child is enough to make anyone lose their sense of humour.

So I'm praying I recover mine, because that will mean he's born alive. I don't care if he has to be in ICU for weeks. I just want him alive. Please God.

No comments: