9 Months!

My sweet baby boy,

We’ve made it! 36 weeks and FULL TERM!! I am just beside myself excited and proud and happy and relieved that we are here. And you are healthy. And big. And still growing inside of me, like you should be. I am so excited that the end is near – just two more weeks and you will be in my arms. I am so anxious to hear your first cry – something I have waited my whole life for. I cannot wait to see you for the first time after the doctor delivers you – all pink and wrinkly and absolutely perfect. I cannot wait to bury my face in your neck and inhale your wonderful baby smell. I cannot wait to feel those chubby cheeks on my own cheeks. I cannot wait to feel the warmth of your skin against my own. I missed out on so much with your sister, I am going to relish in every single little moment with you.

We had my last ultrasound appointment yesterday. Auntie and Ci Ci and Sissy came with me this time. The ultrasound tech was amazing and we got to see your face for at least 10 minutes. Tears just rolled down my cheeks as I lay there and fell in love for the million-th time with your face. Your lips are just like your sisters.

Your cheeks are full and plump. You have a head full of hair.

And Sissy stood next to me and rubbed my arm and cheek over and over. How BLESSED I am to have the both of you. I will never take for granted how lucky I am – EVER. Oh sweet boy, this whole pregnancy has just been amazing. And healing. And if I could have a million more like this, I would.

I am so sad that I only have two more weeks with you inside of me. Safe and warm and quiet and cozy. I am sad that I will soon have to share you with the world. I am sad that I will never feel your kicks and rolls and stretches again. I am sad that I will never be pregnant again. But all of that sadness will be replaced with joy and the miracle of new life that will begin. And I can’t wait to meet you – face to face – and start our life together. You will complete our family and we cannot wait to share our love with you.

So, until we meet you little brother, know that you are loved by SO MANY and being prayed for by so many.

I love you with my everything before I’ve ever even met you.

Love always and forever,

Mommy

This time it will be different

I had my weekly monitoring done today – I climbed into the recliner, got hooked up to baby’s heart rate monitor and a contraction monitor and clicked through the channels on the TV. As I lay there listening to his heart thump away on the monitor and listened for ups and downs and heard the swishing of his movements I thought to myself how lucky I am. How blessed I am to hear that reassuring sound of his heart beat and have the close watch of so many doctors this time around. My nurse walked in and brought me a glass of water and we chatted about my pregnancy, complications and delivery with Claire. She had a 30 week baby. She understood. We talked about the hardships of an emergency C-section, our babies being taken away from us immediately after birth, and the heartache of leaving them in the hospital the day we had to leave. We talked about how you’ll never truly understand until you’ve been there – lived it. And we wouldn’t wish it on anyone – but when you find someone that understands, who’s been there, it’s so nice because they “get it”.

We touched on a topic that is not an easy one to talk about. And I’ve only shared with a few. The lack of bonding that you have with your child when they are sick or premature and you’re not able to hold and nurse and be with them following birth. When you don’t take them home to parent them, and instead feel like a visitor, an outsider when you’re in the NICU. The nurses are the ones that pick them up on the middle of the night when they cry, the nurses are the ones that feed them when you can’t be there. The nurses are the ones to change them and bathe them and dress them. (Not that we aren’t SO VERY THANKFUL for the wonderful, caring, loving NICU nurses) They’re hooked up to monitors and tubes and wires and you have to be so careful. And they’re so small and fragile. And to be brutally honest, I was a little afraid of handling Claire when she was born. She was just so tiny and had so much going on. It was months before I had a true, mother-daughter bond with Claire. Not that I didn’t love her, because I had SO much love for her and I was in love with her the second I laid eyes on her. I just didn’t FEEL what I feel for her now. I felt guilty for not feeling that strong bond that everyone talks about and you read about. I thought that I wasn’t normal. I cried myself to sleep many nights and prayed to God to help me feel what I was supposed to feel. And slowly it came to me. After we brought her home and I was taking care of her and nursing her FEELING her on me – holding her close to me for hours. Breathing in her sweet smells and staring at her beautiful face for hours.

I can’t wait to have it again this time, but with my Baby Boy.

But this time, it will be different.

My Littlest Love

I always thought that the day I was married to my biggest love was the truest meaning of love. And it was, and still is. In that life partner soul mate sort of way. The day I gave birth to my sweet Claire Elizabeth I felt that other kind of love.

That part-of-you-rip-your-heart-out-and-hand-it-to-your-child kind of love. And I never thought that anything else could even come close. But throw a now three year old who is so much like you in so many ways into the mix and let me tell you, there is nothing better.

It’s a make-your-heart hurt kind of love. The kind where you can sit for hours and just watch her play, listen to her hum, and soak up that little voice. Because “this is my favorite age” will be replaced with new favorite ages. And I just want to soak her up right now.

A lot of this is due to the quickly and slowly approaching day that our second little miracle will arrive. And I am sickly, scared to death about a lot of things. One being how the hell is she going to feel when we bring a tiny, needy, new baby into our home and I can’t give her 100% like I have. I am stricken with guilt over the changes that are going to happen in our little home. The 4 days in the hospital, the long, painful recovery of a C-section, the breastfeeding, the exhaustion. And to top it off, she starts pre-school 6 days after Baby Boy is born. And I’ve NEVER left her before. And I am so worried that it’s all going to be too much for her. She’s a delicate little flower. With soft feelings and insecurities and shyness. And I just…am worried.

I just can’t help but go into her room 3+ times a night and kiss her sweet face while she sleeps and know that these times of just one on one are slowly coming to an end. I can’t help but plan special dates for just “the girls” for lunching and shopping. And pedicures just me and my girl – even though my swollen belly is making it harder and harder for her to enjoy them on my lap. But there is something so comforting about my little big girl, sitting in-between my legs in that chair, resting against my belly, and seeing her little toes dangling in the water that makes me warm and fuzzy inside. Shy-smiling and so proud of the color polish that she chose. Sigh.

I just needed to get some of this out. Just needed to get my all-over-the-place ramblings on paper. Because everyone always says that “they adjust” and I know that she will. But she is still my first born, my little miracle that made me a mommy, and just holds a special little place in my heart.

31 days and counting…