In less than two weeks, life is going to be very different for us.

For the most part, I’ve been positive about having our rainbow baby. It’s crazy to think that after all the heart break, tears, waiting, hope, and never giving up, we may be lucky enough to leave the hospital with a baby in our arms.

I hate thinking that way though, but after what happened last time with our angel, Amelia, labor and delivery feels like only the beginning for us, not the end of fear/worry. For my husband and I, walking through those hospital doors isn’t walking into them knowing that we will be having baby. For us, it’s walking through them not knowing what to expect.

That’s that scariest part in these final twelve days. Nothing is ever truly guaranteed, but we are hopeful.

I think a lot of my feelings this week are due to how I was 37 weeks when I was induced with my angel and how things took a turn for the worst when my water broke. I’m still nervous about my water breaking this time. I’m nervous about something else going wrong between now, and my scheduled c-section date. A lot can happen in just twelve short days, and I just want my baby safe in my arms.

I feel like I’m holding my breath in these final days in hopes that we won’t walk into those hospital doors again with so much joy and love in our hearts, only to leave with empty arms and broken hearts.

What should be a joyous day turns into painful reminder that not everything goes the way you plan. Life is so full of unexpected, unfair things. This is just how pregnancy after loss tarnishes your heart. Despite everyone telling me that “things will be different this time” and that “everything will be okay,” nothing is guaranteeing that we will have a DIFFERENT outcome than we did last time. Last time we were told “not to worry because everything would be okay,” and it wasn’t. Two years ago when we entered those hospital doors for my induction with Amelia, we had a HEALTHY little girl, only to lose her eight short days after she was born due to silent killer lurking inside of me, (Vasa Previa).

Time may feel like it’s crawling right now, and the many emotions going through my head have me a little on edge, but one thing that is for certain is that we are hopeful. Hopeful that we will be one of the lucky ones who will have a happy ending. Hopeful that everything will go smoothly this time around. Hopeful that we will get to leave the hospital with a baby in our arms.

We are hopeful for our rainbow after the storm.

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