I find myself worried sick about many people right now.
I have numerous friends/acquaintances/family who are due to deliver their babies within the next few months. Many in the next few weeks, for a couple- days
I can't help but be so scared for them, so worried.
I know what it is like to be 30, or 39, or even 41 weeks pregnant with your first child. So happy, living in an innocent bliss, a pregnancy glow, dreaming of the future and all it has to bring with that child.
I also know what it is like to have that one day, and lose it the next. To go from pure and utter amazement and joy, to devastation and heartbreak in a matter of hours. To see that one beautiful creature you have been waiting for since you were a little girl, who everyone told you, even society tells you- will be perfect- leave, leave, leave- and never return. Dreams shattered, futures changed, that smile- the particular one I used to have- that I will never get back.
I find myself checking their FB statuses, wanting to know how they're doing, if they've delivered- almost waiting for that bad news. I hope with all my heart, and all my strength that all of their situations will be ones that they've dreamed of- perfect and blissful- and not mirror my situation, in any way. But I can't help thinking- being scared, worrying.
I love these women, these families.
Sometimes I just wish I could call them, go over and see them and tell them what I'm thinking. Let them know that odds of - pre-term labour, stillbirth, pulmonary or cardiac issues, bowel issues- the list goes on.
But I'm not going to. I think people would think I am a freak- scaring these poor women, who are about to imbark on the best years of their lives.
In hindsight- I wish someone told me that my baby dying was not impossible.... I mean, of course I knew it wasn't impossible- I'm a logical person.- But it isn't anywhere- really- 'What to expect when you're expecting'- nope, BabyCentre.com weekly email updates- nope, Monthly doctor visits- nope... It's like this dark cloud lurking- that everyone tries to keep in their blind spot. This thing that doesn't happen to them- only to some people- you know, like, that girl that lives up the street, or, that girl I used to skate with, or that girl that I taught with last year, or, that girl that goes to our church and sits on the left with her tall husband -- yip-- all those-- that's me.
However, in hindsight- I suppose it doesn't matter- No one could ever have told me just how difficult and lonely this road could be. Just how much 2 years later, a little boy, who lived for only 2 days could still mean to me. Just how much I would never, ever feel like myself again. Just how much I can stop caring about so much, for just a long time, just how much it hurts, pains my every nerve, every innermost part of me to life this live- every day- without my Noah.
No one would have convinced me of that when I was blissfully happy and pregnant with him. No one. That couldn't happen to me, could it? That only happens to bad people-poor people- 3rd world country people- unhealthy people-negligent people- Not to Jane and Matt- the couple who are none of those things- the couple who have been together since High School- talking about and waiting for the right time to have children, from pretty much day one. Dreaming of that little boy- who we had--- we had him--- we had him for two whole days- long enough for our dreams to become a reality for our future- but then come crashing down around us.
I think I will always look at pregnant women and be a few things- jealous, nervous, scared and worried.
I wish I was just one thing- happy.
But I'm not
-- welcome new reality-- I hate you
-- goodbye innocent bliss-- I miss you
I leave you- with a few pictures- from when Matty and I had 'that' smile- that twinkle in our eyes- that left us, right along with our first born son. Sure- we are extremely happy right now- we have a beautiful daughter- who is filling our life with so, so, so, much happiness. But we've lost such a big part of ourselves.
I miss those smiles.
I miss my boy- much, much more.