The countdown continues

So as of today I am 37 weeks pregnant. Boy howdy, do I feel every bit of it. I think if Rollie Pollie gets any lower he'll just hang an arm out and wave! He's moving less (for real, not paranoia) but I'm sure it's because he has just plain run out of room in my uterus. Those things only stretch to a point you know.....

The closer I get to giving birth, the more emotional I get about Isabella. I can hardly look at pictures of her right now without bursting into tears. Typically her pictures give me comfort, but lately they just break my heart. I was thinking the other day that I just gave birth to her 18 months ago. It seems completely unreal that I gave birth to my beautiful daughter, loved her, took care of her, lost her and am now about to give birth again. Turns out a lot can change in 18 months. It's scary if you really let yourself think about it........so try not to. :)

I'm so curious about Rollie Pollie, what he will look like and what he will be like. I cannot even let myself think about him begin healthy yet, I just can't. I am going into this expecting the worst, praying for the best. I guess I don't want to be blind-sighted like I was with Isabella all over again. Not like it really matters though. You think you can prepare yourself for certain tragedies in life, but trust me, you cannot. You can think about it all you want, convince yourself that your "OK" with it, but when it happens, it's a whole other ballgame. One that you are not prepared for in any way even though you've been training. There just isn't practice or preparation for life's little or big "oopsies". I often wonder why some people in life only get little "oopsies" and some get major "oopsies". Husband really gets fired up about it, he really thinks it's unfair how it's not spread out more evenly. I guess it's not really fair......but as the saying goes "Life ain't fair man!" We'll see when Rollie Pollie gets here. It feels so surreal to me at this point. I simply cannot imagine having a healthy baby. It hasn't happened in so long, it seems impossible. I pray and I pray hard and I guess that is all I can do.

Turkey is getting a little anxious I can tell, but seems pretty excited to meet his new little brother. They are sharing a room (at some point, since Rollie Pollie will room with me for a few months) and he's excited about that. Turkey is a natural big brother and is so compassionate because of his sister, he's just a neat kid. He makes me so proud everyday. Everyone, including Husband and I are going to do whatever it takes to make this transition as smooth as possible for our Turkey. He's had a rough 18 months as well, and I just want some stinkin' stability in his life! I don't want him to be crushed anymore......he's so young, I just want him to be happy and emotionally well and all that jazz. Hope I'm doing this whole thing right! There isn't a book for it! ;)

So at this point I am physically, emotionally, mentally EXHAUSTED. My body does not feel like the one of a 26 year old, it feels closer to that of a 90 year old woman. The pelvis has separated, the ligaments are stretched and the sciatic nerve has become Rollie Pollie's favorite resting spot. I need a break after this baby. A loooooooong, nice break. Time to get myself back in shape, in more ways than one. I'm looking forward to it, I've missed myself. I love being a mother, I love giving birth and bringing new life into the world. It's the most noble of jobs I believe. I just haven't had the typical journey so many others get and I need some time to get back together again. And then, who knows? Maybe another little one in our future? I cannot say now, I just need that break :)

So if you think of it, and you're the praying type, remember us and Rollie Pollie will ya? Thanks :)

36 weeks.............

Ah, we have arrived. It's time for Rollie Pollie to come, whenever he is ready. I'm surprisingly calm right now, which is unusual for me at this point in any of my pregnancies. Typically I get really nervous nelly right about now about the delivery, my baby, handling things, etc. You would think I'd be going really crazy, considering I've never had a baby after losing a child......perhaps it hasn't hit me yet. Perhaps I'm avoiding really thinking about it. Perhaps. I have had some moments........a bumpy spot here or there, but then I start breathing and realize things will be OK, they just have to be. How I'm still an optimistic person after the year and a half I've had is really beyond me at this point. Just go with it.

I met my new midwife a couple of weeks ago and I really like her. She is *exactly* what I would envision a midwife to be. Calm, serene, peaceful, a little hippyish (but not in a kooky, no way are you delivering my baby kind of way!) She's nice and competent, completely competent (MOM!). Yeah, my mom is a little nervous about all of this...........ok, ok, she's downright skeptical about my choices. She can't really help it though, she's an RN and *very* medical. I'm not, that's where we differ. She knows I'm intelligent and that I wouldn't do anything stupid so she is trusting me. I think she just doesn't want to see me in pain, and who can blame her. I watched my daughter suffer daily, and it ain't pretty. I miss my Princess........... I miss her so much I can hardly breathe some days.

So maybe I am a little nervous and maybe I don't really want to imagine the worst anymore. I have already lived through the worst and I would just like to pretend like it's over and happier times lay ahead. I don't want to think that I may get to live my worst twice...........or more. Does that happen to people? I really hope not. So hopefully things will turn out just fine this time. Rollie Pollie will be healthy and happy and never have a seizure. A girl can hope right? A girl can pray and a girl can hold out for happiness.

Well, wish me luck in the next 3-4 weeks, as I will have a new, beautiful boy in my life and times will be crazy around here once again. It's felt pretty lonely around here without my darling Isabella and although Rollie Pollie will never replace her, it will be nice to have a baby in the house again.

I'm off to "nest", you can only organize linens so many times, right?

It's a small world afterall

So, this last week I decided it was time to get my hair cut again. I had not had my hair cut since last February (yes, really) and it was indeed time. I have neglected myself sorely these last two years, but for a better cause. Anyways, my hair. So I don't have a stylist anymore (mine became too popular and you have to schedule your appointments out a year in advance. Right, like I know what my crazy life will be like in a YEAR!) Last Monday I just went through several salon websites just trying to decide which I would pick to entrust my hair too (it's a really big deal you see) and I finally land on one in particular about 30 minutes away from me. I had no idea why I picked this one, I just did. So I call and tell them to just give me whoever, I don't care.

Yesterday, the big day arrived. New hair......new me? I was so very excited! There is nothing like getting your hair cut and I usually always do something different every time I go. I get bored easily.........hard to believe eh? Well, I meet my new girl and she seems really nice and I'm happy. She starts washing my hair, we start chatting. She had a picture of a sweet three month old little boy at her booth and we chatted about him and she told me he was adopted. I thought that was really neat, because for some reason I've always been attracted to the idea of adoption even though I am walking breeding machine. Then she asked the dreaded question: "How many kids do you have?" Oh how I have come to loathe this question. At first, after Isabella passed I would immediately say "Two, but my daughter just passed away, I am pregnant with #3". Well, this warranted lots of ill advice, comments, or even CRYING from complete strangers. *sigh* So now I never know what to say. So, yesterday I just decided to not say anything about Isabella dying and said "I have two, this my third". She says "how old?" Ugh! I lie and say "three and 14 months" (that's how old she was when she passed away, she's frozen in that age I guess.) Then something very interesting happens. She decides to ask me where I'm going to deliver. I tell her and ask where she delivered forgetting she had adopted. She immediately said "I had my baby at Baptist." We both paused. Hm. Then she says "well, I should just be honest, I lost my daughter in April". I couldn't believe it! I immediately said "well, this may sound crazy but I lost MY daughter in May, I just didn't know if I should say anything". We both kind of laughed (like an awkward laugh, not HAHA laugh.) I asked what happened to her daughter. She goes on to tell me that her daughter was 9 months old when she passed and had been born with a rare genetic condition that they just discovered last week from her autopsy. Whoa. So I tell her about Isabella and her rare genetic condition (damn these rare genetic conditions!!!! Don't they know they are wrecking people's lives here??) Then I mention that Isabella died at home, because she was in Hospice. Well, so was her daughter. Which hospice? THE SAME HOSPICE AS ISABELLA! Now, that may not seem all together that strange, however, the pieces started fitting for me. I knew all about her daughter! My hospice nurse had been telling me for months about this sweet girl, because she had a lot of the same issues as Isabella, but no diagnosis. I begin telling this chick all about her daughter and her mouth is hanging open like "how do you know this stuff???". So, yeah, we had been hearing about each other and now here we are MEETING in a huge city. Odd. But wonderful!!!! Her daughter was on all the same medications as Isabella and we laughed about that. Shared memories, hugged, laughed, it was magical. Really. I can't help but wonder if I was supposed to meet her and vice versa.

Well, that's my nice story for the week :) I've got some thoughts coming on Rollie Pollie's impending birth, but I'm tired. (carrying a huge fetus does that to a girl!)

To be continued............

The Patch

It's amazing to me how fast a year can go by and how many things can change in that year. I have really learned that lesson hard and fast since Isabella was born. This last weekend was a doozie, because we went to the Orr Family Farm ( a local family fun type place where you take a hayride and pick your own sugar pumpkin, lot's of fun!) Why was that hard? Well, for a couple of reasons. One, it's always hard when we do something fun as a family now, because a certain somebody is missing. When you're having fun, it's glaringly obvious for some reason. The second reason it was tough is because last year we were all dressed and headed out the door, ready for the Orr Family Farm and Matt decided to just stay home with Isabella because she was having one of her "bad" days. (bad days included lots of arching, crying, reflux, seizures, etc.) We tried to always ask ourselves "Is Isabella going to have FUN?" If the answer was "no", we split up. So Jackson and I went solo, had a good time and I comforted myself by saying "No big deal, she'll come with us next year for sure." Hm. Perhaps not though. Once again, it's funny how life changes in a year. Or maybe it's not so funny.....

My aunt lost her daughter in a terrible car wreck 10 years ago.....my cousin. It was horrible and I talk to her often about how to cope. The other day it struck me that she has been living without her daughter for 10 years. Yes, she's been happy and she has moved on in her own life, which is what healthy people do, but still, 10 years without her child. It made me so incredibly sad to think that at some point I will be able so say "it's been 10 years....." It just doesn't seem real to me.....yes, still. I know it's only been four months since she passed away, but I wonder when it will be real to me. Maybe it will never seem real......only time will tell. There is just the huge hole in my heart as cliche as that sounds, and there is nothing that can fill it. Well, except Isabella, and let's face it, that isn't going to happen.

There are mornings, like this one, when I wake up and out of the blue it really hits me what's missing. Isabella. I will look at the clock and realize she would be waking up right now and I would go into her room and say "goodmorning Princess!!!!" She was always so happy in the mornings and alert. It was one of my favorite times. I would change her diaper and we would "talk" for a while and I would kiss her all over. Then I would feed her the morning cocktail of drugs that kept her going and soon after the light would go out. Oh how I hated those stupid drugs. They stole my baby from me everyday, but she had to have them to survive. Without them she would just have one seizure after another until her heart gave out. Or regurgitate acid all day, or have all of her muscles completely stiff and immobile. My poor girl. It's so incredibly hard to watch your child, your precious child that you love so much suffer every.single.day and there is very little you can do about it. I would have given anything to have taken it from her. I still would today. I wish we had that option in life, don't you? When Isabella passed away, it only took me two days to get rid of her plethora of medications. I hated them and couldn't wait to have them out of my house. My kitchen window had looked like Walgreens for 14 months! They were a painful reminder of her suffering here on earth, and I needed to be surrounded by the positives of her life.

I guess this is going to be a doozie week, not just a day. That's OK I suppose, I have to get it out when I can.

Husband and I feel so sorry for Turkey, as he lost a sister and lost a sister when he is so young and fragile. I hope we are doing things right and helping him the way we are supposed to, but who really knows, right? Turkey did do something really cute yesterday, I love how children's minds work. He came up to me yesterday with my cell phone (his new favorite toy) and said "Look Mama! Isabella is in your PHONE!" (my wallpaper is a picture I took of her at the park a month before she passed) I said "Oh my goodness she sure is!" He continued to walk around the house and look at her and show her things throughout the house. I thought it was very cute. Well, about a half hour later he says "look, look! now Isabella is showing me the house! I can see you and me and anything I want with the PHONE!". Ok, now I'm really laughing. Turkey somehow pressed the "camera" button and was amazed that wherever he pointed the phone he had "live shots"! He was totally convinced Isabella was in the phone and doing all of this just for him. What a stinker. I didn't correct him and just said "Isabella loves you very much." You know what he said? "Of course she does". :) Talk about counting your blessings......

So, this year the pumpkin patch was a little sad, (ok really sad) and that's alright. We took our three small pumpkins and decorated Isabella's grave (I hate that word!) so it looks nice and festive out there. Maybe next year the pumpkin patch will be better, or maybe it will take 5 years for it to feel better. Either way, I know Isabella is with us and having fun right along side us. We just have to quit feeling sorry for ourselves to see it. Someday...................