A plethora of emotions
I am a smorgasbord of emotions today. No one feeling is too potent or too extreme... all are an equally dull pulse in the back of my mind.
C left this morning. I just got a call from my mom that she got to her flight okay (my mom dropped her off at the airport). I was sad to see her go, but somehow saying goodbye this time was easier. Perhaps it is because I know that I will be seeing her again very soon (only a few weeks) and that the next time I see her, I will get to meet that precious little baby.
I get to see B tonight. I have only seen him for half-hour spurts all week because of our schedule and the fact that he slept at a friend's house so that C and I could have the bed. So I am excited about seeing him. I emotionally long to spend time with him. To feel his arms around me. To here his voice going on about his day and his week. To snuggle up to him while we watch a movie and eat pizza. I never thought I would be so in-need of somebody. A week without him feels like an eternity, even if it is the best week I've had in a long time.
And then there is K, my cousin. You remember, the one who was due to give birth 10 days after me? She lost her baby this week. And here, perhaps, is where the greatest puddle of emotions lies. She went to her 8-week check-up, and everything was fine. Then, at 10 weeks, her baby had not grown, but the heartbeat was still there. Then Wednesday, two days ago, the heartbeat stopped. And the baby was still inside. They waited a couple days to see if "it" would pass on "its" own (the doctor's words). But this precious little one didn't pass, and Katie began getting sick. So this morning, at 7:30am, they went in and scraped him or her out, breaking him into pieces, vacuuming out as many pieces as possible, and then scraping the uterus with a metal scalpal to make sure nothing else remained. Otherwise, the little creation to which K gave life, would slowly poison her.
And here I am, only 10 days ahead, drawing my line in the sand that says, "Do not touch my child!" And I remind myself of the promise the Lord gave me... that this little one was already established in Heaven.
And there are emotions I can't explain. My heart is broken for K. I cannot imagine how she lifts her head in the morning after such a loss. And while I know that these losses happen everyday, it is more difficult when she is not a statistic. She is my cousin. She had a baby inside of her. Much like my own precious little one. And now, while she helplessly sits by, they are pulling out the remaining pieces of the life she once had inside her.
And at the same time, I feel guilty. My baby has survived thus far. I resenter her getting pregnant, in the beginning. I felt as though she were stealing my time to be the glowing mommy-to-be. So now, I am the only one who will give birth, and I am ashamed of the thoughts and feelings I had in the beginning.
And I am sad for my baby. The way things look right now, it will have no cousins its own age to grow up with. I have 28. 6 were within 2 years of my age. We were close. We still are close. I loved going to my mom's family reunions because I got to play with them. I hated going to my dad's family reunions because I had no one my own age to even talk with. And I was excited that my child would experience that same comraderie with her cousin, who was only ten days younger.
And I am scared to go to our next family get-together. What will she say to me? What should I say to her? Should we act as if nothing ever happened? Am I allowed to be happy and talk about my baby in front of her? Will she resent my pregnancy, and my child?
Other emotions that I have today regard my baby (or babies). I will go on Monday to hear the heartbeat(s). And it will either confirm my dreams of having twins, or it will be another piece of evidence that one special child is on the way. Then it is only a few weeks after that when I find out if the baby room should be blue or pink. My belly is growing, as is my maternity wardrobe. Things seem to be picking up pace more quickly these days. He is no longer a blob of cells in my tummy. He is now a "fetus" with eyes and ears and fingers and toes. He started normal bodily functions this week. His brain begins to record things. This is a human life. My little precious one.
And I can see the difference in his daddy's eyes. Reality is setting in, and he knows there will be a baby here soon. He looks at me and worries, I can tell. Especially since K's sorrow. And I here the excitement in his voice. When he sees somebody that we haven't seen in a long time, the first thing he says is "did you know she's pregnant?"
And so... as you can tell... I have multiple emotions, with few outlets for them.
So I pray. And I sing.
And I can't wait to spend time with B.
He will make all the difference in the world.
And the emotions will settle back down, perhaps.
We shall see.