In the home stretch now, 38 weeks and closing in on the glorious day when we will have our little girl in our arms and will proudly share her with the world. We are riding high on our cloud along with all of our family and friends who are standing by, waiting for the news of her arrival.
Ever since we reached full term, my elated state has been paired with disbelief. My head has wrapped itself around the events that will unfold in the coming weeks, sometimes busying itself with the not so pleasant realities of the birthing process, but knowing those unpleasantries will come and go, not even being considered as we enjoy our little girl. My heart is not quite there yet, filled with love and excitement to meet our little girl. Yet that same part of me can't put herself in a place where she envisions and believes 100% that it will happen. For the last two years I feel like I have been staring at myself in the window, like the lights inside are on, but the outside world is still so dark and cold, making it hard to see anything but my own image. I have felt somewhat trapped in my world, the only window to the rest of the world which lost it's sunshine the day we said goodbye to Trey. I have only been able to see my own reflection and a life that has survived a great loss yet still struggles to take in a view of the world that is filled with light and happiness. I stare out this window and watch happy children and their parents living on the way I thought we would be by now. I have observed this world with a shattered heart that sees so much darkness without my little boy and knowing that his sunset will be met with his little sister's sunrise, her entrance into this world. It seems to me that this is a truly a believe it when I see it type situation. Her arrival will bring the sunshine back to my world allowing me to look out the window to a much different view than I have had these past couple of years. With more light outside, I will see more of the beauty that this world has to offer instead of seeing only myself against the darkness.
After suffering such a loss, it's hard to envision the eminent happy ending as we spent so much time relying on that happy ending the first time around, only to have it ripped out from underneath us. Though the odds are spilling over in our favor and in favor of a healthy birth followed by a healthy little girl, our only experience is loss. We have nothing pleasant to refer back to and comfort us as we approach our daughter's birth. It's is our hearts' wish that this birthing experience overshadows our last traumatic experience. No experience will EVER replace what we went through during Trey's birth, but I am hoping to look back at her birth and feel blessed that we had a birthing experience closer to "the norm". We have been open with our doctors, sharing our last experience with them and they have assured us that the gaps in my care last time will NOT make a repeat appearance this time. Our circumstances are much for favorable this time around and we are giving birth in a new, more trusted environment so we trust our daughter's care to the staff a lot more willingly.
It saddens me that, so close the the birth of our daughter, I still struggle with disbelief yet this is the reality of pregnancy after loss. Those who have not lost a child might not be in a place of understanding or empathy of the uncertainties that can still run rampant in the hearts of Angel Parents even under the best odds. I am glad for this and hope they never have the experience that yields understanding. Yet for us the proof is only in the pudding, the pudding in this case is the healthy birth and long life of our daughter Lorelei. Holding her in my arms, I hope to be able to not only see the sunshine through the window pain, but also open the window and breathe in the fresh air of the beautiful new days ahead.
Ever since we reached full term, my elated state has been paired with disbelief. My head has wrapped itself around the events that will unfold in the coming weeks, sometimes busying itself with the not so pleasant realities of the birthing process, but knowing those unpleasantries will come and go, not even being considered as we enjoy our little girl. My heart is not quite there yet, filled with love and excitement to meet our little girl. Yet that same part of me can't put herself in a place where she envisions and believes 100% that it will happen. For the last two years I feel like I have been staring at myself in the window, like the lights inside are on, but the outside world is still so dark and cold, making it hard to see anything but my own image. I have felt somewhat trapped in my world, the only window to the rest of the world which lost it's sunshine the day we said goodbye to Trey. I have only been able to see my own reflection and a life that has survived a great loss yet still struggles to take in a view of the world that is filled with light and happiness. I stare out this window and watch happy children and their parents living on the way I thought we would be by now. I have observed this world with a shattered heart that sees so much darkness without my little boy and knowing that his sunset will be met with his little sister's sunrise, her entrance into this world. It seems to me that this is a truly a believe it when I see it type situation. Her arrival will bring the sunshine back to my world allowing me to look out the window to a much different view than I have had these past couple of years. With more light outside, I will see more of the beauty that this world has to offer instead of seeing only myself against the darkness.
After suffering such a loss, it's hard to envision the eminent happy ending as we spent so much time relying on that happy ending the first time around, only to have it ripped out from underneath us. Though the odds are spilling over in our favor and in favor of a healthy birth followed by a healthy little girl, our only experience is loss. We have nothing pleasant to refer back to and comfort us as we approach our daughter's birth. It's is our hearts' wish that this birthing experience overshadows our last traumatic experience. No experience will EVER replace what we went through during Trey's birth, but I am hoping to look back at her birth and feel blessed that we had a birthing experience closer to "the norm". We have been open with our doctors, sharing our last experience with them and they have assured us that the gaps in my care last time will NOT make a repeat appearance this time. Our circumstances are much for favorable this time around and we are giving birth in a new, more trusted environment so we trust our daughter's care to the staff a lot more willingly.
It saddens me that, so close the the birth of our daughter, I still struggle with disbelief yet this is the reality of pregnancy after loss. Those who have not lost a child might not be in a place of understanding or empathy of the uncertainties that can still run rampant in the hearts of Angel Parents even under the best odds. I am glad for this and hope they never have the experience that yields understanding. Yet for us the proof is only in the pudding, the pudding in this case is the healthy birth and long life of our daughter Lorelei. Holding her in my arms, I hope to be able to not only see the sunshine through the window pain, but also open the window and breathe in the fresh air of the beautiful new days ahead.
Lots of hugs to you and John. I understand your fears and it is so frustrating because you want to be so happy, but are dealing with feelings that are conflicting. You are so strong and I am so proud of you! Can't wait to see this little girl that will brighten the world!
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