Catching Our Rainbow

Hoping for a rainbow after the storm…

Breaking the Silence

I really didn’t want to be that blogger. The one gets pregnant and then stops posting. But the truth is that I had nothing to say. My life was a constant state of waiting and hoping, and I didn’t want to write a bunch of posts that were all the same: I’m fine, baby is fine, I’m still scared. It wasn’t even an issue of trying to be respectful of those still in the trenches–I just really didn’t have the desire to write those posts. I was happy and excited and having a textbook pregnancy, and I just wanted to ignore the fear and uncertainties. I was refusing to acknowledge all of the anxiety that I was harboring. But I wouldn’t be able to do that here. I couldn’t be that dishonest here. So I ignored this space and didn’t deal with those feelings. But now something has happened that I have to share. Something I’ve been waiting for, holding my breath.

I’ll be 26 weeks tomorrow–two weeks past viability. This whole pregnancy I’ve been worried about attachment because somewhere between Tup and our fifth loss, the eternal optimistic in me that could never be silenced was finally cut out. Every milestone that we’ve come to this pregnancy has been met with excitement, joy, and complete disbelief. I continued to be floored when things went well. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. I honestly kept waiting for my baby to die. While I was happy and excited, I never truly believed that I would give birth to a healthy baby at the end of this, and I never truly attached to this life inside of me. Everything just felt like more practice in how far I could be pushed until I would completely break. Even when I felt the baby move–I could never make the emotional connection between those feelings and the child we would have in December.

Then something changed this week. Baby has gotten so much stronger and I’m a fairly small person so I can put a hand on my stomach and clearly feel little body parts moving around. And at some point I made the transition and starting thinking that the little life that is moving and squirming inside of me will be moving and squirming in my arms in December. Our baby isĀ alive. I will hold that little body and touch those tiny fingers and kiss that tiny nose and watch those little legs kicking. The same ones that are growing and moving inside of me right now. I love this child. I love this child more than I ever thought possible. And instead of thinking that I cannot wait until he or she is born so that I can stop worrying and finally enjoy my baby, I’ve just been thinking about how I can’t wait until he or she is born simply because I want to meet this tiny person that I love so much.

I kept waiting for this transition. I kept waiting for attachment–the true attachment where I let go of the painful past and believe deep down in my being that the movements that I feel inside of me are my baby that I adore and I will meet in three months. And I just realized that I’m finally there. You would think it would make me even more afraid, but there is too much love and excitement and joy in my heart to fit fear right now. That might change, but, for now, I am going to allow myself to soak in this moment that I have waited three years for. I have endured so much pain and anxiety that I’m just going to let myself have this.

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