Fickle

A friend on my preemie board today commented that time is so fickle. Boy, did she nail how I'm feeling these days. I feel like I'm simultaneously wanting to press pause & fast-forward on the remote control of my life.

These beginning weeks of pregnancy are interminable. I've reached 9 weeks with no signs of trouble. There was last week's "perfect" ultrasound, and the fact that I've hit 9 weeks without bleeding. My blood pressure is good, my weight has been steady even though I'm eating carbs like crazy. (I still have yet to puke, but I do get waves of nausea that only seem to respond to crackers.) I've had some cramps, a lot of round ligament pain- basically to tell me something is going on in there. I have no reason to believe anything is wrong except my own history. Which I'm trying to leave behind.

But at least 15 times a day, I think "I hope you're okay in there, little guy." because I just don't know. I will glad to get to the point that a Doppler is somewhat reliable. It was the only thing that kept me close to sane with Robbie. While I'm not nearly an anxious this time as I was with Robbie, a daily assurance of life would be really appreciated.

So of course, I'm wishing away the first trimester. Fast forward, please! Come on week 13! You can't get here quick enough! Funny to think that was the half way point for my pregnancy with Robbie. If I'd only known, eh?

At the same time, I know this is it for us. Assuming this baby makes it to birth, we're done with baby-making. I would love to have more children, but my daydreams are of adopting a sibling group out of foster care. That will likely never happen either as David isn't on board with that plan, but even if he were, I know any more children that came to us would be born of someone else's womb- not mine. And really, I'm at peace with that 99% of the time.

We're two infertiles who have managed 4 pregnancies and might actually manage 2 children. Both Robbie and I nearly lost our lives getting him here. It remains to be seen what this pregnancy will bring. But even if this pregnancy is perfect all the way to a scheduled C-Section at 37 weeks, this is it. I'm going to be 35 this year. And if we get lucky with this pregnancy, I'm going to take that luck and run. I feel done. 

Of course, there is also an element of a "do-over." This was hard for me to rectify in my mind before we decided to have another baby. I had to really be honest with myself about why I wanted to get pregnant again. Did I want another baby? Did I want to birth another baby? Or did I just want to experience a whole pregnancy? Ultimately I admitted there is 10% of me that just wants to have a whole pregnancy. It's not something that eats at me a lot, but it's there. I find it really seeping in when I'm around friends in their third trimester. I have to bite back incessant questions about what it's like. I have to fight the urge to be THAT person, who wants to rub a belly and feel the baby kick. I'm enthralled. To me, it's like being within reaching distance of fame. I wonder what it really feels like.

The other 90% was genuinely wanting another child and this was what we determined to be the best choice for us to attempt that. So here we are. But this is it. I don't want to take it for granted, or wish it away. I want to experience all of it, to really take it all in, to appreciate and treasure it. While right now my boobs hurt enough to make me cry, and I can gag if I just think about the word "gag" for a second, in a year, this will all be a fond memory. I want to commit those memories in my mind. So I need to pause time.

I also know that these are likely our last months with Robbie as an only child. As much as I want so much for him to have a sibling, I also love having just him, too. Since I've been working 2nd shift, we've got a morning routine that involves getting Robbie up and coming back to the big bed together. Robbie says "snuggle on the pillow!" and we go snuggle up together for a while. He smashes his face into mine and demands first kisses, and then tickles. The boy loves to be tickled like no kid I've seen.

Usually at some point the kitties wander in and Robbie moves his affections to them. "Fuffy kitty" is particularly tolerant of Robbie's hugs. She'll sometimes meow a short cry that sounds a little like "help!" if he's using her as a pillow, but once he's cautioned (again) not to lay on the kitties, he goes back to gentle petting and coos at her "aw kitty.." Sometimes she comes to lay on the pillow between our heads, alternating between washing each of our heads. It's a nice way to wake up.

The last few weeks I try to picture another baby with us. How will Robbie take to having to share his morning snuggles with a baby? Will he want to lay on his tiny sibling, too? What if the new baby is an early riser who wants to be up and at 'em immediately? I know in my mind that we will all adjust, but I also treasure these remaining times of just us. Someone please hit pause for a minute.


Of course, that's not life. In reality time always seems paused & fast-forwarded at the same time. The days creep by but the months fly. I feel like I've been pregnant for a year, but Robbie was just born last week. Instead I'm only two months into what will hopefully be a solid 8.5 and Robbie will be three in a few short weeks. It's always the worrisome things that go so slowly and the cherished moments which seems to disappear in a flash. My friend was right- time is fickle, indeed.

--Trish