In less than 50 days I am going to be holding a baby in my arms. Next month. A few weeks. No time at all really.
And I waiver between being excited and shit scared.
We have been in this place before. Looking forward to a baby, prepared for them to arrive, only for fate to deal us a cruel blow and turn our worlds upside-down.
Only for Avery to die.
It does not help when Tara’s comments about this baby are all prefaced with “If this baby doesn’t die…” Her words just echo the deep seated fear that hovers in the recesses. We all think it. Even strangers say things about this one being fine. How can they guarantee something no one else can. It is not unknown for families to experience multiple losses. We don’t know what took Avery from us. How can we be reassured this won’t happen again, when they have no idea what caused it to start with.
No amount of reassurances make it easier. Even if I say them to myself over and over again.
Anxiety seems to be high the last two days. Reflux, low blood pressure, almost fainting, feeling “off” and “dizzy” have just compounded it all. I believe it is a bit of a chicken and egg scenario though. The anxiety (and heat) causing the symptoms and then feeling anxious because the symptoms have popped their head up. It is not fun having your vision go on you and the clammy sweats take over all senses and intrude all thoughts.
An OB visit today, while utterly frustrating due to wait times and the public health system, had me given a clear bill of health. A bit of swelling, a bit of a variation in my normal BP levels, but clear bloods and urine. Having an anxiety/BP/clammy attack in the waiting room made me feel 10 times worse, but at least I was there, and they could see how I was. Granted the tears just did not stop after then, and the tears have been quick to come since.
Truth is, despite the gestational age of this baby, I would happily and willingly have this baby tomorrow. I am over the pregnancy. It is not that it is bad, it is just… I don’t want to be pregnant any more. That simple.
Though, I have to plan a few more things to pack and have ready to take to the hospital. Be prepared for everything. Clothes, nipple shields, wraps, pads, stuff. Have it all prepared so that it can be grabbed whenever we need.
Officially we are booked in. We have a date. But we have also been assured it can change if time and emotions and health necessitate it. It is so hard however having a new OB. As ‘nice’ as she is, she is not our previous OB (who left in Jan after this one came back from leave). The old OB delivered Avery. She has been with us since this ride started and she knows more than what is in the file. She understands me. She knows me and DH. She knows Avery and she knows this baby. While I trust the skill of the new OB, a relationship will be hard to build in the next few weeks. You can’t just replace 18 months of relationship building just like that.
Just typing all of those words out have the tears streaming down the face and the mind swirling.
I am ready. As ready as I think I can be. But now time is going to drag and speed simultaneously again. In no time we will have this baby. And yet, that time will take forever to pass.
So for now I will rest, sleep, keep my feet up and take my meds. Talk to the psychs and the counsellors and the medical teams as needed, and nest as much as I can. Try and get everything ready. As ready as we can be.
Soon we will have a baby.