Thursday, 30 October 2014

Hope is being brave.

This afternoon I was planning to take a self portrait of me in some flowy dress to show off my baby bump in a blissful radiant and glowing fashion. I was quite determined until I looked in my wardrobe and realized I'm not feeling very radiant at all and getting changed finding the right outfit just takes too much energy at the moment. I'm feeling quite the opposite really. I'm tired, uncomfortable and feeling both physically and emotionally heavy. This is me at 38 weeks and 2 days pregnant. No make up, hair roughly pinned up, wearing my worn out pink slippers and maternity pants that I've literally lived in for the past 9 months.
I'm 6 days away from meeting my baby girl. I had my last midwife appointment today. Everything is well, I'm well, baby is well, everything is expected to go well. I'm happy but not overly excited, I'm scared but not to the point that I'm blinded with fear. I'm somewhere in the middle. I'm in a neutral state of conscious to protect myself.
This pregnancy has been so much different. I've had my fair share of meltdowns and anxiety episodes. My mind races especially in the midst of the dark and silent night where I lay in bed just going over and over the possibilities of something going wrong. and then I have flash backs of seeing Lukas all wired up in hospital and then dying in my arms.

I then tell myself and bubs that everything is going to be OK, even though I don't know if its true. Its called hope, hope is the only thing I can attach myself to, hope for the best.

I wish I didn't have to hope, I wish I could go into this birth naive and innocent. But all that was swept away when Lukas died.

I know how sudden things can change from the perfect blessed dream to a nightmare in hell. I know how unexpected death can come to your doorstep. I know the worse feeling a parent could ever feel is missing your child forever. I know what a shattered heart feels like when all your dreams have been battered in grief.

It has left me balancing between 2 worlds. One where I miss my son and the other where I long to see my daughter in my arms to stay. It has left me right in the center where all I can do is HOPE.

Hope is the the only thing I can hold onto. Hope is being brave because I've nearly reached the end of this pregnancy even though I'm still scarred and broken from loosing my baby boy.

In 6 days I get to meet this little life inside of me. In 6 days I hope I get to hold her, fuss over her and breath her in. I hope I get to listen to her sweet cries, look into her eyes and bring her home forever.