We are doing well. No contractions, still. Lots of baby movement. Friends, T & A, visited yesterday and were able to feel them. It was neat to see the looks on their faces. T is a co-worker of Peter and he brought me homemade Pad Thai (which I adore) and A brought me some of the sweetest smelling lavendar soap. But the best part was the nice, long visit. We laughed and had a grand time. Sarah is coming today and bringing with her some tank tops that Peter ordered for me to add to my current collection (which is all I wear in the hospital).
Yesterday, Peter hung up my pregnancy calendar on the wall next to the bed and the crucifix over it. Thank goodness for those 3M sticky things that are easy to remove from walls. They work great! We use them around Christmas time to hang decorations and so he picked some up (along with soft toilet paper... spoiled... I know).
I cried most of yesterday. For the most part, it was just the kind of crying where my eyes were watering, tears were on my cheeks, but I could keep myself in check. I know that part of this is because I dont want to induce contractions by sobbing, but part of it, too, is that this is a normal way that I cry. I held their box and blanket, clutching them to me, missing them all but especially Nicholas. 18 months is a long time. I think of all the milestones he would have crossed... All the things he'd be doing. How he'd be a chubby, bubbly baby... How he'd be halfway to his 2 year birthday. A toddler instead of an infant. Oh, how this hurts. But I survived until Peter brought in his dinner last night, so lovingly made by my mother-in-law. I was weeping during his prayer but, after the first bite, openly sobbing. I had to bury my head in the pillows and just gasp for air. It needed to come out. Holding it back was only making it worse. Peter climbed into bed with me and we just held and rocked and remembered. 18 months ago my son was born and, like I was last night, I was in a hospital room, trying desperately to hold onto his sibling (and now, siblings).
Such a common misconception is that pregnancy somehow changes things. People tell me how much better I must feel knowing that I am pregnant again. That I have passed by the delivery dates of Nick, Sophie, and Alex. That I am "close" to having a "live" child. Worse are the comments that God has replaced our first twins with another set of b/g twins. Or that these babies are just replicas of their older siblings. That we will "finally have a boy and a girl to play with". Hearts are in the right place, I know, but these statements arent true. And the more people continue to believe that simply having another pregnancy/child fixes the heart that a grief stricken parent feels, the more insensitivity to loss will be. It's no different than the person who told me, after Nicholas died, that, because I had Sophia, I should be grateful. That most people didnt have a spare. Really? A spare? That was what my daughter was reduced to??? Again, it comes from not thinking, not a desire to hurt. They have no reference, so they really dont know. But with this pregnancy more than any other, it really burns me. I'm not getting a second chance. There are no second chances when your baby dies. God isnt replacing one child with another; every person is special and unique. And this pregnancy sure as hell doesnt make me "feel better". There isnt some special mark where you suddenly feel better. My children have died. I miss them. I always will. Loving them keeps me sane. The discounting by others makes me angry. And please... please... please... dont think that I suddenly "have a boy and a girl". I had a boy and a girl when they were conceived in Oct 2007. And I had a second little boy the second he was conceived in Aug 2008. We now have yet another beautiful son and daughter, since they came into my womb in March. They are all gifts. Telling me that finally I will have something I already have just makes me want to give you an on-the-spot sensitivity workshop.
But I digress... It actually has been a good weekend. And most people avoid putting their feet into their mouths. But there are always the well meaning friends and family and aquaintances who slip up. And they dont know any better. I know this. I dont hold it against them.
It's thundering and lightening here, and a storm is brewing. I can see the gray clouds from my hospital bed. I love to just watch the rain. Storms are some of my favorite weather. They mirror how I feel inside most days.
Well, I think I will ask Peter to continue hanging some homey things on the wall... I'll make sure to take pics with my cell and post them so that you can all see how happy our room looks. :)
I will leave you with some happy pics, taken today, at 22w1d. In the words of my adoring husband, "You are getting big!". (Don't worry: the naked belly shot with a heart will be here in 2w. We do those for our monthly shots.)