Tomorrow I’ll officially be the most pregnant I’ve ever been. With my first rainbow, I hit that milestone at 35+3, and it was a definitely a tough one, because it coincided with the day we lost our daughter. Hitting 37+1 is tough in a different way – it’s hard because it’s the day that everyone would be ok with me inducing if I wanted to, and it’s when we induced our rainbow. We know this baby would be fine if he was born today. I can’t say the same for keeping him on the inside. And yet… I will continue to manage my anxiety day by day, for now. Because… I dream of going into labor. I want him to be ready. Because I’m sad that this is my last pregnancy (I think).
But the anxiety is getting the best of me at moments, as is to be expected. I did find myself at L&D over the weekend asking for extra monitoring, because I needed to know that he is tolerating the bouts of contractions I’m having. I’m grateful that the nurses and OBs were beyond gracious in understanding that I needed reassurance, and that I have learned now to be very clear in stating why and what I need in terms of that reassurance. Of course he looked great and I’m grateful that it got me an extra cervical check to know that I’m starting to make some progress and ready for sweeps, etc. starting this week!
I’ve definitely been nesting, and it’s interesting how it’s different this time. When I set things up for our rainbow, they were almost entirely the things his sister never used. The crib, the changing pad, the blankets I rewashed and folded. There were unseen dreams in each item I unfolded and the fear was that they’d again go unused. But pulling the items out this time, the feelings are different. I have memories made in them. I see my sweet newborn in each sleep sack, in each tiny pair of pants, I remember the feeling of actually bringing him home from the hospital. And dare I say that this fear, of not bringing this baby home to these items, hit me even stronger than the fear of the unknown, of the unused. Because now I KNOW what it means to hold your baby and swaddle them tight in those blankets. I know which nursing tops I liked and didn’t like and put the ones I like on the top of the pile. It all just felt really real.
I’m trying, trying, trying so hard to soak up every moment of this last pregnancy. When we lost Layla, that ripping empty feeling so was all consuming, I wanted nothing more than to put her back inside, to feel her kick one more time. With our first rainbow, I needed him out, as soon as humanely possible. I needed him in my arms. This time, I don’t know. I am so anxious to meet him but I’m also trying, whenever possible, to close my eyes and feel those little rolls and kicks and practice gratitude for today. He’s alive inside me, and right now, my body is holding him close and safe. Come when you can, little man, we’re all waiting for you.