I posted a photo today, where I quoted that I’m at the point in my pregnancy where, if something falls on the floor – it’s dead to me. And this I can say is entirely true. I am fairly certain I still have toes, but they’re pretty difficult to see nowdays. Last week, I was off sick from work with an infection and I sincerely tried to teach our kitten Tucker how to pick things up for me. Unfortunately for me, he’s only interested in doing that when it is his “fetch” ball…but hey, at least we tried right?
We are 35weeks&1day today… and my goodness, I am excited that there is a light at the end of this seemingly never-ending tunnel. I will say, that this pregnancy has been a much healthier one than my first, given the fact that I am actually able to eat this time around but I am definitely exhausted. We’ve reached the point where just moving around, or getting out of a chair is both extremely uncomfortable, and tiring. Although I am still stubborn enough that I refuse to sit down to put my socks on, that moment has arrived.
“Pregnancy is the happiest reason ever for feeling like crap”
With the reality that Peanut is due to arrive in 5 weeks (or less) truly hitting me, the anxiety I have surrounding her arrival has reached an extreme level. I am constantly wondering if we are “prepared”, and if we have everything we need (which we most definitely do). I’m pretty sure there’s enough 0-3months clothes to never have to wash a single outfit she wears, and still have some leftover. Her closet is overflowing with clothes, her diapers are prepped and ready to go, our bag is packed – and yet, I cannot shake the feeling of being “unprepared” for this from my mind. The reality is, her imminent arrival brings with it a wealth of emotions. Fears surrounding labour and delivery, questions of newborn care, immunizations, and possible complications are just the beginning of the list that runs through my mind. The fact is, even though we’ve done this before – there is so much more fear and anxiety, and “what if” scenarios to think about. So far, we have had two “false alarms” of labour, that have had us rushing to the hospital to make sure she is okay. That may stem partially from my anxiety, and my need to hear her steady heartbeat – but it also comes from my labour experience with Addison. By having “silent labour” with her, it leads me to question every unfamiliar feeling this time around, as I truly have no frame of reference for what the beginning of labour may feel like.
“A rainbow baby is a baby born after the loss of a previous child. It is understood that the beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of any storm. When a rainbow appears, it does not mean that the storm never happened, or that we are not still dealing with its aftermath. It means that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and clouds. Storm clouds may still hover, but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of colour, energy, and hope.”
The truth in having a “rainbow baby” is that we have experienced such great loss and tragedy already, that there is so much to worry about that we wouldn’t have considered before… Our worst “what if” has already happened – and it brings forth so many emotions surrounding our family, this baby, and how we will continue forward with her in our lives. I know, the day that Peanut chooses to arrive will be an amazing day. It will be an experience like no other, as every baby is different. I know already the unlimited love we have for her, and how having her in our arms will be the greatest moment we will share. I don’t have to question how much love we have for her – a rainbow baby is a beautiful gift, but it is nowhere near a simple experience of emotions. Already, the ups and downs of this change have weighed on my mind. The fear and anxiety surrounding the possibility of “something going wrong” will probably never truly go away. The overwhelming happiness and joy of this special little girl who we’ve waited so long to meet. Every kick brings us closer to her, every day that passes gets us closer to the day she will arrive and I cannot wait. But I know the waves of emotion have only just begun, but no matter how hard the process – there is no greater gift than the hope she brings.