We had an appointment today. It was short and sweet, saw baby girl
for a short while but didn't get any pictures. The only issue we have is
she is breech right now but otherwise she looks perfect.
My doctor said, "So how are you feeling?"
"Really good," has been my go-to response. And it's not a lie. I feel fine, apart from the usual aches and pains of pregnancy.
Just as she stands up to leave she asks again, but in a different way. This time, I have to think about it, and as the tears well up, she sits down.
I do not have any worries about the health of this little one. I know physically she's fine. She'll cry when she's born, she'll open her eyes, she'll be hungry. I do not have any serious worries whether we'll be good parents or not...I know we'll be fine.
But I miss them. I miss them both, Sam and baby girl. It might sound weird, but I missed Sam long before he was born and died. I wrote to him as if he were already gone, because although I could feel him moving, I couldn't kiss him, hold him, love on him the way I wanted to. And I'm sure I sound like a broken record by now, but this sadness is just intensifying as time goes on.
Thankfully, my doctor understands. She listens, gets to the root of what's going on, and then makes suggestions. She doesn't push any one thing, and she's respectful of my wishes, crazy as they may be sometimes.
"You know, sometimes postpartum starts before baby gets here," she says, "Has anything made you truly happy in the last two weeks?"
I have to think. I've smiled, I've laughed. I've done everything the same for the most part. I know I am blessed, and am thankful to the Lord for this life He's given me. But truly happy in the last couple weeks? No...not truly. I've lost interest in many things, and I just feel this overwhelming fatigue.
I've felt this before. I know where it leads. I don't want to go there again. And it was not when Sam was born...that was grief. This is something different.
But this time I recognize it, and I've felt it for a few weeks now.
And this time I know to work on it sooner rather than later. So, just bear with me for a little while. I love my life, that I know for sure, and wouldn't change it for anything. Right now there's just a sadness. I also know that my God is bigger than this, and with Him, everything will be okay with me.
28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.
My doctor said, "So how are you feeling?"
"Really good," has been my go-to response. And it's not a lie. I feel fine, apart from the usual aches and pains of pregnancy.
Just as she stands up to leave she asks again, but in a different way. This time, I have to think about it, and as the tears well up, she sits down.
I do not have any worries about the health of this little one. I know physically she's fine. She'll cry when she's born, she'll open her eyes, she'll be hungry. I do not have any serious worries whether we'll be good parents or not...I know we'll be fine.
But I miss them. I miss them both, Sam and baby girl. It might sound weird, but I missed Sam long before he was born and died. I wrote to him as if he were already gone, because although I could feel him moving, I couldn't kiss him, hold him, love on him the way I wanted to. And I'm sure I sound like a broken record by now, but this sadness is just intensifying as time goes on.
Thankfully, my doctor understands. She listens, gets to the root of what's going on, and then makes suggestions. She doesn't push any one thing, and she's respectful of my wishes, crazy as they may be sometimes.
"You know, sometimes postpartum starts before baby gets here," she says, "Has anything made you truly happy in the last two weeks?"
I have to think. I've smiled, I've laughed. I've done everything the same for the most part. I know I am blessed, and am thankful to the Lord for this life He's given me. But truly happy in the last couple weeks? No...not truly. I've lost interest in many things, and I just feel this overwhelming fatigue.
I've felt this before. I know where it leads. I don't want to go there again. And it was not when Sam was born...that was grief. This is something different.
But this time I recognize it, and I've felt it for a few weeks now.
And this time I know to work on it sooner rather than later. So, just bear with me for a little while. I love my life, that I know for sure, and wouldn't change it for anything. Right now there's just a sadness. I also know that my God is bigger than this, and with Him, everything will be okay with me.
28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.
-Matthew 11:28-29
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