Lazy Posting

I just read the title of my blog again. "Surviving a subchorionic hematoma."

Surviving.

That is what I have been doing for over a year now. Just... surviving. I haven't been living. I haven't been fully and truly living and enjoying my life. I've been so scared, cowering from the fear of pain, loss, grief. The fear that we're going to go through another cataclysmic event. I am surviving.

And surviving--that is important. Probably just as important as living, because no one goes from pure, earth-shaking, heart-wrenching grief to fully living. The surviving is the middle stage. I needed to learn how to survive again, because there were times where I wasn't sure how I could. And even now, with life turning around for us a bit, and a healthy baby kicking my ribs, the thought of LIVING seems like a far-off, distant possibility.

But I see it again. I see it in my future... there is a little light shining ahead of me, glowing in the distance, almost within my grasp. A light where dreams come true, hard work pays off, and happiness can be found. My fear is still muting it. Trust me, I'm terrified. And I don't know if I'll be able to breathe easily until I hear my daughter screaming, and find out she's healthy. I know that I've got at least another week left before I am able to start moving towards that light of living.

Do I regret getting pregnant so quickly after my loss? In some ways, I feel like she got robbed. In some ways, I wish we had waited a little longer to allow the healing to have gotten further along. But, could we have fully healed not knowing if we could do the one thing we want most? Complete our family? I honestly don't know. Waiting could have prolonged the suffering even more.

But here we are, on the dawn of a new chapter. In so many ways. I just got a promotion at work, I can finally believe and trust that things might be okay financially. We can afford a new roof once I pay off some debt, in a few months I'll be able to start fixing stuff around the house that have been put on hold (rock beds, de-weeding, fence mending, power washing, getting into the attic, painting...)

These are all little glimmers of hope. Of light. Of a future I can believe in again. Did this baby suffer? I don't think so. She certainly won't when she's here. My fear has not kept either of us from bonding with her. If anything, we are too attached, and I am more scared of that than anything else. She is probably the most loved child on the planet right now (yea, yea, you think your baby is, you are wrong ;) ). So did she suffer for it? No. Will she? No. She is part of my glimmer of light.

And even if something happens... at least I can know that through the darkness and from the ashes I can rise yet again. We are all able to be reborn. So we learned from childhood Sunday school, and so we experience over and over again. And while I'm just a little fledgling, I am starting to believe that life is good again. It's hard, and sad, and scary, and bad stuff happens. Yes, it does. But it doesn't ALWAYS have to be bad.

So, give me a few more days of "survival", and then, we'll move into the living portion, where I start pulling back the shades and dipping my toe into the pool of life again. That's the hope, that's what I pray for, and that's what we're working towards. While I have no control of anything, that's where I'm at right now. It's the only way I can accept the past 16 months.

Baby update - no real contractions, no more braxton hicks, no mucus plug, baby in my ribs. No real progress. guessing no more dilation (we were at 1 cm for two weeks). While this doesn't mean jack, it also definitely doesn't mean I am in labor, and that's what we're aiming for!

Next appointment is friday, where I will be asking to schedule an induction / c-section. Physically, I feel wonderful! Hips are alright, sleeping not great, but sleeping, I am hot and sweaty and smell bad, and I officially can't eat dairy anymore because it tastes horribly disgusting. But mentally? Mentally, i am exhausted. Mentally, I am drained. Mentally there isn't much left. Work is sucking up the majority of the stamina I have left, and baby stuff... don't even get me started. The waiting. The watching. The not knowing. My brain is just about at the end of its rope. So yea, while I could go two more weeks physically, I am pretty much burnt out emotionally, and that's a scary place to be. So I should have more information for the blog after my appointment Friday. Last Wednesday we were "1 and a wiggle cm" dilated, cervix long and firm, but coming 'forward'. BP was 130/80 (creeping up). My hands are numb and tingly and puffy from carpal tunnel, my feet are like sausages, but the baby isn't showing any signs of being ready. I am frustrated and upset at my doctor (probably mostly hormonal, because logically I know why my baby isn't here in my arms yet, wiggling around. but emotionally, I am so mad that she's not after months of hearing we'd go early).

Yea... it's a weird place to be. A true holding pattern. Like the planes that land in London, circling around the river Thames, watching the Eye spin around, and cars attempt to get through gridlock, and Big Ben standing proud over his city. I'm just up here watching, waiting, and praying. Hoping for the best, and looking forward to the future. Finally, a future with light I can see.

-Em