28 weeks

Who knew this milestone would make me so emotional?

This picture was taken last summer, only about a week before Gideon was born.  I am about as big now as I was then, and this time, baby and I are still growing.  Little did I know when this picture was taken that our pregnancy was going to be cut short, and that my son would not have long to be with us.  I'd have treasured his kicks and wiggles more if I knew now what I knew then.

I am 28 weeks today.  I never made it this far with Gideon's pregnancy, they were so concerned with his development and his kidneys that they took him early to do surgery to remove the fluids in his kidney and try to give his lungs the chance to grow as they should have been doing.  This week, I got to do my glucose blood draw at my own doctor's office.  With Gideon, I drank it at the U of U hospital after they admitted me, and they did my bloodwork there, shortly before giving me the first steroid shot in my hip.  The glucose test is still not fun, but it was so much better than it was last year, when I was reeling after being checked in to the hospital because there was no more fluid around his body and they wanted to monitor him; I had just been given the news that our baby's problem was most likely fatal.

Before I got pregnant again, I was told we were at higher risk for another baby with similar problems to Gideon.  I was told I was at a higher risk of future premature delivery, since we had delivered a premature baby.  I have hoped that this baby would be able to develop longer and healthier than Gideon, and we are now to the point that she has succeeded at both of these hopes.  Feeling her move, knowing she's still growing and doing alright--it's a treasure.  Even Scott has said that our experience with Gideon makes him treasure feeling her every movement, and helped him to realize that he loves this baby, even though she's not here yet.

Sure, I'm uncomfortable.  It's hard to sleep sometimes, it's hard to bend, I don't fit in all the same places (or clothes) I used to.  It's getting hot, and I'm way more sensitive to the heat when I'm pregnant. Without the perspective I gained, I'd normally be complaining a little (or a LOT) more.  Don't get me wrong, I do still complain.  Gideon changed me, but I'm not that perfect. 

The thing is, I spent most of last August and September wishing that my baby was still growing inside of me, developing healthy and well, so he could come in early October like he was supposed to.  Inevitably, other women had babies.  Many of these are friends or relatives of mine, and had been pregnant with me; and while I absolutely and wholeheartedly hoped that their babies (and they) would be healthy, it was still hard to have been "cut off" from enjoying my own child.  I was so excited for them, and never would wish that type of loss on anyone, but each baby was a reminder of what I was missing.  Some women went over their due dates and complained, and then gave birth to healthy babies, and I was jealous.  I understand about the last weeks of pregnancy dragging on, I've been there.  I don't see the discomfort of pregnancy quite the same anymore, though.  The one week that I had with my unhealthy, premature baby, and then the following week after his death as we planned his funeral--those weeks were longer and harder than any pregnancy I've endured.  (And yes, pregnancy is an endure thing, not really an enjoy thing.)  I'd rather endure a pregnancy than lose a child, though.

I spent months where I was so torn between wanting to hold babies, to feel that special, familiar feeling I had so little of with Gideon, and NOT wanting to hold them, to be reminded of that special, familiar feeling I had so little of with Gideon.

The very first time I held Gideon.

I love that feeling, newborn babies are such a miracle, and I can't help but marvel and wonder whenever I hold one in my arms.  It was very hard to be reminded of my son, of all I was missing.  It was so bizarre to have a desire and a dread for the same exact thing.  Thankfully, my niece was born in the fall, and was named Cate (some of Scott's family call me Kate).  My little namesake, who I believe spent time with my angel son before she made her own earthly debut, has been a healer for me.  She fixed my baby conundrum.  You know when you tell someone "Give so and so a hug from me."  That's what she feels like to me--it's as if Gideon told her "Give my mom hugs from me."  I have held her and stared into her eyes, and felt like she wanted me to know that he's OK, that he's not far away, and that good things are to come to my family.  Because of her, I am back to the point where holding babies isn't a dread, just a treat.

I have thought about all the prayers I have put into this pregnancy, and all the prayers that went into the last one.  Not just mine, I know.  So many people have invested in this pregnancy--through well wishes, prayers, bringing food, taking care of kids when I went to the doctor, asking how I'm doing and GENUINELY being excited when all is well...it's overwhelming and awesome to me how loved my family is.  I have felt very overwhelmed as the memories of my 28th week of pregnancy have swept over me several times.  I am grateful that things are going well this time, and am so glad to know so many people who are cheering us on and who have been praying for things to be well with us.  Thank you to our many cheerleaders!  At 28 weeks, she still looks great (saw her in an ultrasound Tuesday).  I wish it could have been this way with Gideon, and it makes me miss feeling his movements, seeing him onscreen in many ultrasounds, and seeing him in person.   I am so much more grateful for healthy, routine visits than I ever was before.  Boring and normal days are such a treasure when one has experienced the gloom of bad days, of bad news at the doctor's office.  The last trimester won't be fun, but I am trying really hard to be so grateful for the blessing of this discomfort, because of the treasure that will follow.