Today is a challenge. I woke up at 6 thirty, dropped Nathan off at work and headed to my weekly OB appointment. I am 3 cm dilated, 80% effaced and at Station 1. These are all very good progressions. My blood pressure is still low, lost 3 lbs and baby's heartbeat is great. I am so thankful to go to these appointments and know that we are both healthy. A wonderful blessing.
While waiting for my appointment, a couple came in to the office whom we had met at our birthing class. They were carrying a little lady that she delivered on Saturday. And for a moment I felt overcome with sadness . . . this empty feeling of internal acknowledgment that she had a baby and I longed for one. And then it hit me . . . this was my infertility talking. I am still in a mindset that somewhere in my subconcious I believe we are infertile. And this is an important thing for me to reconcile. Until I hold our baby girl in my arms, I don't think I will understand the gravity and reality of the gift we have been given. My heart is paper thin.
Last night Stina (our five year old cat) had her left eye closed shut like a little pirate and some tears rolling down her face. We thought that maybe she just had a scratch. But this morning she had yellow guck coming out of her eye and was sneezing a lot. Two things you should know about me: I think stuffed animals have feelings and we also never bring our pets to the vet. So at 7:15 this morning I found myself calling the emergency animal shelter and eventually making an appointment at the vet for Stina to have a check up. I realized at this moment that I am not prepared for the emotional courage and stamina it's going to take to raise a baby. What will I do when my little one has a fever?
I'm happy to report that Stina is doing okay . . . I was given medication for both her and Carol and they should have clear eyes in a few days. Phew. The vet said that she received an upper respitory infection due to stress . . . most likely from her perception of my hormones changing. Yipes!
I am home now and feeling not quite as thin. Knowing that I can do this, that I will do this and that someday I'll look at my pirate cat and sqwaking baby and see that I am a strong person . . . even if it means that I cry at silly things. It is out of love and that's the best kind of crying and vaulnerability there is.
While waiting for my appointment, a couple came in to the office whom we had met at our birthing class. They were carrying a little lady that she delivered on Saturday. And for a moment I felt overcome with sadness . . . this empty feeling of internal acknowledgment that she had a baby and I longed for one. And then it hit me . . . this was my infertility talking. I am still in a mindset that somewhere in my subconcious I believe we are infertile. And this is an important thing for me to reconcile. Until I hold our baby girl in my arms, I don't think I will understand the gravity and reality of the gift we have been given. My heart is paper thin.
Last night Stina (our five year old cat) had her left eye closed shut like a little pirate and some tears rolling down her face. We thought that maybe she just had a scratch. But this morning she had yellow guck coming out of her eye and was sneezing a lot. Two things you should know about me: I think stuffed animals have feelings and we also never bring our pets to the vet. So at 7:15 this morning I found myself calling the emergency animal shelter and eventually making an appointment at the vet for Stina to have a check up. I realized at this moment that I am not prepared for the emotional courage and stamina it's going to take to raise a baby. What will I do when my little one has a fever?
I'm happy to report that Stina is doing okay . . . I was given medication for both her and Carol and they should have clear eyes in a few days. Phew. The vet said that she received an upper respitory infection due to stress . . . most likely from her perception of my hormones changing. Yipes!
I am home now and feeling not quite as thin. Knowing that I can do this, that I will do this and that someday I'll look at my pirate cat and sqwaking baby and see that I am a strong person . . . even if it means that I cry at silly things. It is out of love and that's the best kind of crying and vaulnerability there is.
5 comments:
Hang in there...we are keeping you all in our thoughts and prayers for a safe and peaceful delivery.
Maybe your little matey Stina will keep you distracted enough to keep your mind off still being pregnant! It's the little things - sick pets, house projects, bad t.v. - that help out these last days.
I'm happy you and the babe are so healthy. Now Stina too.
Love love, B
I find the reality of having pets first and then adding kids to the mix amusing. Luther, who was once my baby, still is a big baby, is way lower on the totem pole. I never thought I'd feel that way. But when having the option to have a biopsy on a tennis ball sized lump on Luther for $400, and taking our chances with the possibility of (say it with a whisper) "cance-a". We opted for the later. I know we so callous now, but really children do come first...and you'll learn it all in time.
I empathize with the overwhelming emotions you are feeling as you anticipate the arrival of that beautiful little girl, and start considering the gravity of what you and Nathan are about to undertake. It's amazing, and hard, and rewarding, and beautiful. And you fill find inner strength as a mother you didn't know you had (at least, I did.) You and Nathan are both amazing people, and Miss Nordlund is not only going to need that, she is going to enhance it. I'm so excited for you both. Lean on each other, lean on your friends and family. We all anxiously anticipate how the three of you will blend to become an amazing family.
Remember that God will give you strength for each day and each situation...He'll never let you down.
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