One year later

A year ago, I was pregnant. A year ago, I started bleeding heavily in the shower. A year ago, I went to the ER. A year ago, I lost my baby.

The past year has not been easy. Reminders of what could have been mixed with the reality of what was. Holidays where I should have been __ weeks pregnant passed without a child inside. Then July hit. The month I was due to have the child that wasn't to be. The month I found out that I was pregnant with this child, this girl, that WILL be (God willing).

That made it.... different. Not easier. Not harder. Just different. I was still missing and grieving the lost baby, but I was also celebrating the new life within me. I was cautiously celebrating this new journey I was embarking on. I was afraid that it would all end at any moment (and I still am). A friend called me Momma-to-be the other day and quickly changed it to Momma because, in her words, I am already a mother. I told her that Momma-to-be was a better title. I'm not comfortable being called Momma just because a baby should be in my arms in three months because I know. I know how quickly that can end and I'm afraid. I have a hard time acting excited about this pregnancy and SF, but I am. I am so so excited. This is my daughter and will be no matter what, but I'm afraid of the worst case scenario happening. How could I not be? It's happened before.

So, when you see me in person and you ask about how things are going, my nonchalant answer is just covering the fear I have inside. When you ask my opinion about shower things, know that I am so grateful and so excited about getting one, but I'm still afraid that there will end up not being a need for one. I'm afraid to tell too many details, in case I have to take them all back when things end poorly.

But I am trying. I am trying to keep a positive mind about all of this that is happening this year and not dwell too much on the loss from last year. I am trying.

You know what helps? When you get excited for me and with me. When you ask me questions and give me advice. When you acknowledge SF is a real (little) person.

Because your excitement is contagious to me. :)

25 weeks

How Far Along? 25-ish weeks
Picture? 

 

Total Weight Gain/Loss: Back down to pre-pregnancy weight... even after Thanksgiving... I'm going to work on eating more.
Size of baby:  Spaghetti Squash
Maternity Clothes: Yup.
Gender: Pink!
Movement: She may be a gymnast.
Sleep: Multiple wake ups every night. Not to pee, but because I am too hot.
What I miss: Coffee, sushi and beer/wine
Cravings: This week's big craving has been pound cake and a subway sub
Anything Making You Queasy or Sick? Meat cooking... still. And dog food. I gag every morning when I fill the dog bowl. Yuck.
Belly Button In or Out: In
Happy or Moody Most of the Time? Most of the time
Stretch Marks? Only the old ones
Other Symptoms: That foot pain and crazy insulin resistance
Have You Started to Show Yet? If I wear certain clothes
Best Moment of the Week? Baby goodies in the mail
Looking Forward To: Muppet movie matinee tomorrow and a Mediterranean dinner with friends.

A Prayer for my Daughter by Tina Fey

“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches. May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty. When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer. Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age. Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit. May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers. Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait. O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed. And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it. And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes. Amen.” -Tina Fey