18 Weeks: Hope is in the Air

When Alma died, some people told me to wait a little while before we had another baby so my body had time to heal.  I kind of nodded when they told me that, but I wasn't sure if I agreed.  It wasn't my body I was thinking about that had to heal--it was my heart.

At my 6-week doctor's check-up, my doctor didn't say anything about waiting to try to have another baby, and I didn't even ask. I remember at that check-up feeling numb again.  It was weird going to the doctor's office again--this time not pregnant and without my baby.  I sat in the lobby waiting for one of the nurses to come get me, feeling like I didn't belong there anymore.  I felt like my body was healing just fine, and I wasn't sure if I should really be there.

I was grateful that the six weeks had gone by quickly, though.  I remember keeping count because I knew I could start exercising again after the appointment, and I guess it was good to officially know that everything with my body was healing.  The hard part was just getting mentally, spiritually, and emotionally healed.  I didn't know then at the six week check-up that it was going to be such a long road.  Sometimes I get frustrated with myself, thinking that I am finally "over it," but then something during the day that makes me remember that Alma would have been 2 months old, 3 months old, 4 months old, 8 months old...cutting his first tooth, smiling for the first time, rolling over, laughing, spitting up all over the carpet, having blow-outs, growing out of his newborn clothes, dressing him up for his first Halloween, showing him off to family and friends during his first Christmas, crying during the night, crying during the day, trying solid foods for the first time, learning to hold onto his toys...

And I have realized that I will never be "over it."  I am learning it more and more even as I am expecting another baby...another boy.

I catch myself having little panic moments.  Moments where I can't feel him moving and wonder if he's okay.  Moments when I realize I don't know why Alma died last time and wondering if it was because of something I ate, or I exercised too much, or I didn't exercise enough, or because we didn't have air conditioning and I let my body get too hot, or I didn't eat enough, or I didn't get enough sleep, or because I missed taking my prenatal pills once in awhile...there are so many things that run through my mind.  Every time I sit down and eat something, every time I go exercising, every time I go to the doctor's office and wonder if it's going to be that day when I won't hear this second baby's heartbeat either...

I remember just last week I had a doctor's appointment.  It was just a routine check-up--no ultrasound or seeing the doctor.  I had made sure that when I made the appointment I would get the same nurse who wasn't able to find Alma's heartbeat.  I knew that she knew what had happened, and I wouldn't be too scared or embarrassed to ask her "silly" questions.

But when it got right down to it, I got really, really scared.  I was almost to the point of having a panic attack.  It was just so similar to the day when we found out Alma died.  I got up that morning knowing that I was going to leave work at 11:00 a.m. to go listen to this baby's heartbeat on the doppler...just like I did with Alma.  I was going to see the same nurse who wasn't able to find Alma's heartbeat on the doppler.  And I was going alone--Jayze wasn't going to be there with me.

I was able to hide my feelings at work, but once I got outside and started walking to my car in the sprinkling rain, I started losing it.  My hands started shaking, and I had a hard time breathing.  I shakily got out my phone from my purse and dialed Jayze's number.

He answered, "Hey cutie!" and I, out of breath, was able to get out a quick, quiet, "Hi" back.  He said, "What's wrong?  Are you okay?"  And I of course burst into tears as I drove to the clinic and said, "No!"  I told him how I was feeling, and he talked with me and was able to calm me down.  I parked in front of the clinic, said thanks and bye to Jayze, hurriedly wiped my tears away, and trying to hold my head up, I walked into the clinic.

I tried to distract myself by watching the movie that was showing, but I couldn't tell you right now what was playing.  I remembered being that nervous the day I had the appointment for Alma, and I was worried that was a sign the nurse wasn't going to be able to find a heartbeat that day either.

I jumped when a nurse opened the door and called my name.  I was feeling numb again as she took my blood pressure.  I didn't quite hear her when she asked me to follow her to a room, so I just sat there in the chair.  Finally, what she had said soaked in when I saw her looking confused as to why I wasn't getting up and following her.  I stood up and numbly followed her down a long hallway.  There, just outside the door to the room she was taking me to, talking to another nurse, was the nurse who was going to see me.  I quickly looked away from her face, hoping she hadn't recognized me as I walked past her, even though I was going to see her in just a few minutes.

I sort of hopped/climbed onto the mini bed thing (why do they make those so high?) and sat there trying not to cry.  As I looked around the room trying to distract myself, I figured, "What the heck?  It usually takes them awhile to come back so I'll just sit here and cry until they do."  Once I thought that, the dam burst and a flood of tears came streaming down my face. 

And of course, the nurse who had led me to the room popped in again sooner than I expected, and started saying, "The nurse will be here in a min...hey, are you okay?"  She suddenly looked concerned as I frantically tried wiping the tears from my face and putting up a good front again.  It didn't work.  My voice trembled slightly as I habitually answered, "Yes, well, I'll be okay in a minute."  She asked if I wanted her to ask the nurse to wait a little bit to come in.  I didn't want them to forget about me, so I said, "No, it's okay."  I kind of laughed through my tears and said, "You guys usually take awhile to get in here!"  She laughed and went out to go get the nurse.

I sat there and tried to get somewhat more control of myself.  It worked...a little.  I was still sniffling and kind of crying when the nurse walked in.

She said, "Hey, how are you doing?"  And from there, the tears came again as she handed me some kleenex. 

I told her that I thought I would be okay seeing her again, but I just wasn't.  It caused a trigger in me that I didn't seem to be able to control.  She sat down and talked with me a little bit and then said, "Let's listen to that heartbeat.  I think that will make you feel better."

I slowly laid down on the mini bed thing and watched as she put some lubricant on the heart doppler and then held it to my bare stomach.  I held my breath as the couple of seconds that went by seemed like a couple of hours.  She moved the wand around on my stomach, and then--there it was.  My baby's heartbeat!  He was alive!  She let me listen to it for a little bit and then helped me sit back up.

She listened to me ask questions I had about the pregnancy and patiently answered them.  I felt so much better after that appointment.  Instead of walking out of the office crying, I walked out with a light step and a smile.  I called Jayze once I got back in the car and happily told him the baby's heartbeat was wonderful.

As I was back in the car I realized that it wasn't just happiness I was feeling, but I was also feeling hope.  Hope that maybe this pregnancy would go right.  Hope that I could take a baby home with me.  Hope that everything was going to be okay.

I know I'm still going to have those panic moments.  I'm still going to look at other families who have two boys who are the same age Alma and my next little boy would be and wonder what it would be like to have Alma here.

But I can still have moments where Heavenly Father is nudging me, letting me know that He is there and that He cares about me and how I feel.  He knows how important it is to me to feel the baby move, to hear the heartbeat, and to finally (hopefully) hold this baby in my arms and see him look up at me alive and breathing and beautiful.

I am realizing more and more that I can have hope in my Father in Heaven.  That no matter what happens, He will be right there.  He will be with me every step of this pregnancy.  And even though I don't know what the future holds for me, I know that because of Him, I can still have hope.

As one pregnant woman who had experienced a similar loss quoted her husband, "While all other pregnant couples are expecting, we are hoping.”

So, here's to hoping.