Skip to main content

Not today.

I am so grateful to read my own writing just 5 days ago and be reminded of the beauty of each day.

Because today is not one of those days. Today I am tired. I'm worn. My mind hurts.

I smile and shake my head when I share with those in person about what our current issues are because I just cannot believe the twists and turns this journey with Gabriel has taken us on. It doesn't seem real. Believe it or not, the newest news we've received is even harder than what I've shared thus far.

I'm hurting. I can't even explain it other than I feel heavy. I'm having one of those days.

One of those weeks.

30 weeks pregnant today. I wish I could be excited. I wish I could take a glowing picture. Three fourths of the way done! In the home stretch! But I haven't showered. I haven't even brushed my hair. 

I'm devastated. And I look it. I feel everything so deeply today...this week. Everything hurts.

I have terrible heartburn. Every time I close my eyes, the nightmares come. The nightmares themselves don't even entirely make sense, but I've woken myself up from crying so hard in them. Sleep is not an escape for me, but it's all I want to do.

I'm doing too much. I can feel it. But I don't want to stop, because I'm desperate for 'normal'. Normal moms are tired. Normal moms sigh when their kids ask for just one more snack. 

I get up to get those snacks...but I feel like I'm dragging lead weights behind me every time I move.

And my sweet husband. I know he's tired. You can see it in his face; hear it in his voice. I want to do so much more for him. I feel like more often than not when he walks through the door after work, I say, "I'm sorry." 

And he doesn't fault me. He rolls up his sleeves, picks up his babies, and starts making food. He makes sure we all get to the table to eat together. He makes sure we all make it to church on the weekends. He makes sure I don't have too much to worry about other than the basic needs of the kids on any given day.

God has taught me so much about grace by giving me this amazing husband. 

Today is not a good day. Not the celebratory day I envisioned when we first announced this pregnancy. I can't even look at the "30 weeks pregnant" updates on pregnancy apps. 

Because Gabriel isn't doing "practice breathing."

I can't do kick counts. 

I barely feel him. 

30 weeks and Jamey hasn't been able to feel his newest son move. 

That's sad. And I just need to sit in this sadness for today. I have to process it. I hate that this all needs to be done. It takes so much energy that I simply do not have.

I am so grateful for the good days. They carry me through days like today. Reading through my good days gives me so much hope that there are more to come. And come they will.

They just aren't today.

30 weeks.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Hardest Part

One year ago today I had my very last prenatal checkup. I saw both my maternal-fetal medicine specialist and my ob/gyn. My blood pressure was great. Gabriel was still there and moving. There was no indication that within 24 hours my liver would start to fail. I didn't know that April 13th, 2018 would be the last time I ever saw my baby on an ultrasound. It would be the last time I heard his heartbeat. I didn't know that the next morning a pain would begin. The next day I would meet my sweet little 2-month-old nephew. I wouldn't be able to eat because I just wasn't feeling well. I would stay up late with the pain, sipping water and waiting for it to pass. The next night would be spent in the ER, not knowing we would be meeting Gabriel face to face just 10 hours later. One year ago was the beginning of goodbye to this teeny boy. And I had no idea. Wednesday morning. It's time to get ready to leave. Except it's 3:00am. I keep waking up, worried tha

We Look Like Four

6 years ago I celebrated Mother's Day with no baby in my arms. Sam had died 2 weeks before. The year after that, I was pregnant with Mira and still had no baby to hold. The year after, Mira gave me the gift of the stomach flu. ;) The last few years have been fairly "normal" with the exception that one of my children was not there. And this year, I will celebrate with half of my children. There is nothing easy about this. One thing I grieve is I will never have all of my children in one picture. I asked the photographer to take one with Mira and Edward when they came to visit us at the hospital. I'd said, I don't care if it's crazy or no one is looking. I just want one with us as a family of 5. That's what we have. One picture of the 5 of us. One. We're a family of six, but out and about we look like four. We don't look like our hands are full with just the two. We don't know what it's like to juggle a baby carrier while chasing do

A New Way to Celebrate

"But He could have saved my boys.  He could have . I'm so angry He didn't. I'm going to have to work through that with God, and I'm going to need time to do it. This isn't a quick fix, and there is no band-aid big enough to patch this damage. This cut is so deep it's going to take some major reconstructive surgery." I wrote that nearly two years ago. Two years. I wasn't wrong. There has been no quick fix. There was no band-aid. I'm still working through this with God. I still need time. I'll likely be working on this grief until it's my turn to leave this world. What I can  say is the waves have settled a bit; the intensity of the grief not quite so severe. I don't talk about them as much anymore. I no longer desire to go back to the hospital and cradle their cold bodies. We're done having children....even that  thought isn't as painful as it was just a year ago. Sam's birthday is April 30th. Gabriel