Irony or Something Like It

Back in November or December, when we first consulted with our current midwifery practice, they had mentioned possible induction at 37 weeks in a subsequent pregnancy. Without realizing it, I grabbed on to that as my saving grace. Somehow surviving to 37 weeks seemed much more manageable than any other option. However, once I became pregnant, I never actually looked at the calendar to figure out the date.

So at my appointment this morning, I brought it up again just to discuss where I was mentally. As we were talking, C (the midwife) got out her calendar and looked at it. Her face just fell and she reached out and put her hand on my leg. "Ashleigh, I don't think you are going to want to do that." She showed me the calendar.

37 weeks falls on July 30. The same day Owen was born.

How could I have missed that? I know in the grand scheme of things, its probably not as big a deal as I am making it out to be, but it feels like one more blow from a universe that appears not to be on my side at all.

Another View

I went yesterday afternoon to see the pe.rinatalogist again*. Again it went very very well. Dr C. says this baby looks about as healthy as a baby can possibly look. I have trouble believing him. I want to, but I imagine there is some mysterious ailment around every corner. The shadow of losing Owen is always over us. I can see bright times ahead but can't quite believe they're real. Is it even possible that an "easy" pregnancy can follow one where the worst has happened? I hope so but I don't know, so I hold my breath a little longer.



* I put up some of the ultrasound pics here. You are welcome to look if you'd like, but if you are not there, I understand.

Edited to add- I almost forgot we will be away for the next week with limited to no Internet access, so don't worry if things get silent over here for awhile.

No Laughing Matter

You know what makes me both mad and sad? I have not allowed myself to laugh at this pregnancy at all. I've taken it all so seriously and expected JD to do the same. In reality, there has been a lot to laugh about (the never ending growth of my breasts being first on JD's list, I'm sure.) but, I'm so busy being afraid that I"m missing it. I want that easy confidence that enables you to laugh at the craziness of growing another person inside you. I think I've been mourning this baby before there is anything to mourn. That's not right; not for me, not for Owen, not for this baby.


I have no silly nickname for this baby. I want that to change.

Baby Steps

I took all of your advice (and strength) and talked to my midwife about the dreams I've been having. It was a really good conversation. I was able to talk about a lot of my fears and she received it in a positive way. Most importantly I did not feel like a total freak.

As an aside, I think since Owen died I would rather "suffer in silence" than reach out for support and be rejected. I know in my head that's not the healthiest way to live, but I think its one of the many scars left behind. There were so many people I thought would be there for us (me) when he died that just weren't. Sometimes that hurt almost as much as losing him.

Back to the midwife convo though, I was very honest and explained exactly what I've been dreaming. Her reply was that she would never ever gloss over a mother's intuition. She agreed that even though I had (prior to losing Owen) dreamed of a birth center birth that might not be the best place for me this time. We talked about all the things that are available at the hospital for those kind of situations. I'm starting to feel like there's a "safe" place for us. It was another tiny little exhale moment.

In other news, I'm not sure if I had mentioned this or not, but, up to this point, I have done virtually nothing to prepare for this baby's potential arrival. Well, this week, actually this morning, I was finally able to take a few little steps. I preregistered at the hospital and I bought a hooded towel. I know neither of these is really a big deal but they feel monumental to me.

Dreamin'

Just how much stock should you put in your dreams?

Before losing Owen, I had a recurring dream that the baby was born before 28 weeks and I left the hospital without him. Of course, at the time I assumed that meant the baby was in the NICU and worried about preterm labor when I wasn't chastising myself for being silly. We all know how that turned out.

This time around, I've been dreaming that this baby is born not breathing and needs some assistance immediately. I suppose the redeeming factor in these dreams is that, in the dreams, I know the baby will be fine in the end. However, I'm conflicted as to what I want to do about these dreams. I hesitate to discuss them with my midwives for fear of being dismissed as a crazy alarmist deadbabymomma. (Not that they've ever given me any reason to feel that way, but all the same...) But at the same time, I can't bring myself to call them just dreams. I mean, what if? What would you do?

Curiouser & Curiouser

Me, that is. I love learning all this random stuff about people so I was thrilled to be tagged by c.


Here are my responses:

1. What were you doing 10 years ago?

I was on my first real vacation with JD. He had just graduated from college and as his graduation gift, we went to Montreal for a week. It was amazing. While we were there, a member of the hotel staff called me "Mrs. XXN." I remember I really liked how that sounded. Less than six months later, we were engaged.

2. What 5 things are on your to-do list for today?
OK, this is going to be really boring-
Laundry
Trip to Costco
Vacuum the family room- its so gross in there right now
Read at least some of the newspaper
Play outside with J&K


3. List some snacks you enjoy.

Cheetos
Sharp Cheddar Cheese
Dark Chocolate




4. What would you do with a billion dollars?

Anything I damn well pleased! Just kidding, sort of.
I think would donate as large portion. JD and I set up a small charitable giving foundation in Owen's name- I'd love to really be able to fund it properly.
Help my brother and his family realize their own financial goals.
Invest for my kids' futures.
Travel.

5. List the places you have lived.

Boston, MA
Princeton Junction, NY
Wilton CT
Croton On Hudson NY
New York, NY
Clarksville, TN


6. List the jobs you have had.

Gift Wrapper
Cashier
Tour Guide
Lifeguard
Admissions Assistant
Research Assistant/Coordinator
Validation Scientist
Product Developer



7. List the names of people you want to know more about:

Hmm, how about Clarissa and K@lakly. Honestly though, I'd love to know more about anyone reading this! So if you are reading consider yourself tagged.

No Man's Land

Lately, I find myself struggling to find a place where I belong. As I get further along in this pregnancy, I'm actually starting to believe that I may take home a baby sometime in August. As thrilled as I am about that possibility, it separates me some from the little community of deadbaby mamas that I've found out here in the blogosphere. I read the blogs and want to comment, but feel so self-conscious and hyper aware of my state that I hesitate. I don't quite belong the way I did a few months ago.

At the same time, I lurk on a few due date clubs and know that without a doubt I don't belong there either. I read their posts about all their grand plans for labor and birth and baby rearing and just cringe. Don't they realize talking about those plans may just tempt the fates to steal it all away from them? At least that's how I feel. I feel like I should start making some plans in case this baby does arrive this summer. Then again, planning anything feels like incredible hubris. I'm stuck here and kind of floundering. I wish there was some guide to follow.

I find myself in this strange no man's land. I don't know what I feel, other than alone.