**Caution - blatant self-pity ahead.**
This morning, as I struggled to find some piece of clothing that might actually fit, I pulled all of my maternity clothes out into a pile. As I stared at the gathered shirts and paneled pants, a huge wave of sadness hit me as I confronted the reality that I would never be pregnant again. Bryce and I have always just wanted two kids, so I knew this would be my last, I just didn't know it would be cut short. I think one of the hardest moments of this experience was when the doctor walked into my room and said I would not be dealing with bed rest, but would be having a c-section, and having it now. In that moment, I realized I would not have this baby with me any more - not feel him kick and poke me, or get hiccups in the middle of the night. After the surgery, it was almost like having phantom limb pain - every tummy bubble or gurgle made me automatically smile until I remembered.
What they never tell you about experiences like this is how hard the little things are. There was no small crib in the hospital room that visitors could peer into and proclaim how adorable that baby was. Nobody tells you how you alternately love the NICU nurses for how kind they are, but secretly kind of hate them when they come to tell you your half hour is up. They don't tell you how hard it is to walk past the new parents loading their babies in their cars on your way out. There's no book which explains how to tell your 2 year old son that he can't hold his new brother.
I don't want anyone to think that I'm whining - I realize how incredibly blessed we are and how things could be very, very bad. Jack is doing so well, and has not once given us cause for alarm. I've been lucky enough to have two (mostly) healthy pregnancies. For all this, I am truly grateful. I just think putting some of this down into writing might help me let go.
In that spirit, I conclude with my one and only pregnancy pic - taken two days before Jack was born, and a promise to focus on the positive from this point on.
This morning, as I struggled to find some piece of clothing that might actually fit, I pulled all of my maternity clothes out into a pile. As I stared at the gathered shirts and paneled pants, a huge wave of sadness hit me as I confronted the reality that I would never be pregnant again. Bryce and I have always just wanted two kids, so I knew this would be my last, I just didn't know it would be cut short. I think one of the hardest moments of this experience was when the doctor walked into my room and said I would not be dealing with bed rest, but would be having a c-section, and having it now. In that moment, I realized I would not have this baby with me any more - not feel him kick and poke me, or get hiccups in the middle of the night. After the surgery, it was almost like having phantom limb pain - every tummy bubble or gurgle made me automatically smile until I remembered.
What they never tell you about experiences like this is how hard the little things are. There was no small crib in the hospital room that visitors could peer into and proclaim how adorable that baby was. Nobody tells you how you alternately love the NICU nurses for how kind they are, but secretly kind of hate them when they come to tell you your half hour is up. They don't tell you how hard it is to walk past the new parents loading their babies in their cars on your way out. There's no book which explains how to tell your 2 year old son that he can't hold his new brother.
I don't want anyone to think that I'm whining - I realize how incredibly blessed we are and how things could be very, very bad. Jack is doing so well, and has not once given us cause for alarm. I've been lucky enough to have two (mostly) healthy pregnancies. For all this, I am truly grateful. I just think putting some of this down into writing might help me let go.
In that spirit, I conclude with my one and only pregnancy pic - taken two days before Jack was born, and a promise to focus on the positive from this point on.
4 comments:
I hope it helped to write down your feelings - they were beautiful and made me cry. Sure you don't want just one more?
I think all of those feelings are very normal for your situation. (I remember having many of them when we had Grey so early.) Nobody prepares you for what you'll deal with when you have a premie--it's not really what you "sign up" for. If you ever want to talk, we're always here. Hang in there--this will seem like a very distant memory soon.
I don't think you are whining at all! I am glad you were able to share your feelings with us, it's all normal to feel the way you do! Glad you were able to have that cute picture taken just before he was born!
Your feelings are very natural. I can only imagine how you are feeling. I've often wondered how hard it would be to have a baby and then have to leave them there and not take them home with you. That would be very hard. I think that sharing your feelings is great. You are strong, and so is Jack. All four of you will get through this, and it will make you closer and stronger in the end. My thoughts and prayers are with you. Nice picture, by the way. :)
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