I can't even believe it!
I love to come to my blog in the evening because the little counter on the top turns to the next day before midnight rolls around and it makes me feel special it see it on the next day already...I am a dork...I know. It is okay...I have come to terms with it.
I am very obviously pregnant these days...no more wondering if I am fluffy or knocked up...it is definitely knocked up. I guess unless you haven't been around many pregnant bellies and then you would wonder...
Anyway, I had an all day training event for work today. I, of course, had to get up an go to the potty every 30 minutes or so. The other women in the room would give me sympathetic smiles and I waddled out for the 100th time. When lunch came around everyone wanted to know...when are you due? how much longer? boy or girl? is this your first? I really enjoy sharing about my pregnancy and I don't mind the questions. But, i hate making strangers feel uncomfortable. I try to just answer with "No, it is my second." (and continue smiling as they ohh and ahhh) But, most people seem to follow up with "how old is your first?" And, then I simply say "He would be a year old, he died shortly after birth." You know the responses...they range from comfort, to strange, to silence. And, really it is okay, I am pretty used to it by now. But, today the woman sitting across from me kept asking me more questions about Trent...in current text. She asked how I was decorating the nursery and I told her in planes. She asked what my older son's room was done it. She asked if he was excited to be a big brother. I didn't answer that one. I played the whole conversation back in my head and thought 'did I tell her he died or did I leave that part out?' After 3 or 4 more questions about Trent's life I finally said, "He passed away." She went pale. Whoops. She said, "I thought that is what you said before but I thought I must have heard wrong." She went on to tell me she had a still birth in between her girls. It was 15 years ago and she NEVER talks about it. She just forgets that infant death happens. The speaker came up to me on break and asked the same string of questions...when are you due? boy or girl? what is his name? first? And, I told her the same answers. She asked how old my first was and I told her he was 22 minutes old when he went to heaven. She got tears in her eyes and said, "My first son would be 40 next week. He was born a preemie and lived 10 months before going to heaven." She took my hand and said, "He will always be your first, your baby, your whole heart." And, then she kind of just walked away. 40 years later and still teary eyed. I am amazed every single day the amount of people who walk this path. There are the women who never discuss it, the ones who live for the death, the ones who know my pain in such an intimate way. It is so heartbreaking.
It is hard not to find joy in my Ian James! But, I wish I could go back to the days when all I knew was the joy...when the heartache wasn't part of the equation too.
30 whole weeks...praise God!!!
We are only six to seven weeks away from removing my cerclage...it has already been in place for 16 weeks...seems like just yesterday I was freaking about the surgery!