The Night Before...

I've been told I'll get a call that tells me what time to come to the hospital tomorrow.  I have no idea when that will happen and can only hope it truly happens tomorrow.  There is always the chance that every other woman in Calgary will decide to deliver tomorrow and I'll be postponed.  I am trusting that God will have control over the timing and praying that I get a call earlier in the day and not later.  The baby is fine, I'm simply overwhelmed emotionally and my body appears to be trying to go into labour, but failing.  I've been induced with all of my deliveries.  My body will break my water or begin contractions but never makes it far enough on it's own and I end up with an induction anyway.  I feel confident that this is the right decision.

This little girl, this upcoming delivery and this pregnancy have been an experience I was not fully prepared for.  We were obviously shocked to find out we were pregnant so quickly after losing Hope, but were excited and knew that we had many months to adjust to the idea.  I spent the majority of those months in denial and focused on the fact that I was pregnant, but not the fact that I would be having a baby.  Thanks to a lot of help from a grief counsellor, I've been able to dig into my pain and allow myself to bond with this new little girl and not allow my fears to hold me back.

This does not mean the fears simply go away.  After losing a child, you are no longer free to assume that everything will be fine.  It doesn't matter that the echo looked great of this baby's heart, the list of complications that can happen is still quite long.  I fear a lot of things that will likely never become reality, but until I hold my healthy baby girl in my arms, my heart is not truly at rest.

In reading through materials for parents about to have a child after the loss of another, I have learned that I am not alone in my feelings.  Any pregnant woman struggles at the end of pregnancy with the patience of waiting to meet their baby and to finish being pregnant!  The intensity of all that when you've lost a child is just so much greater.  I was comforted to know that this is normal and that often woman begin to lose their minds much earlier than I have.  At this point, although I feel my daughter move within me, I need to see her breathe in front of me.  I long to see her breathing and alive.  Sadie will always be my baby girl, but Hope was truly still a baby and the last time I held her she was no longer alive.  My arms ache for the feel of a warm baby's body, a rising chest and eyes full of life that look up at me.  This is not filled by any baby, it is a feeling that I believe will only go away when I hold a baby belonging to Shawn and me.

I hold a lot of fears about the hospital.  The experience is too familiar and it's a struggle for Shawn to be there as well.  I'm not sure how I'll feel about the IV's, the doctors coming in and out, the nurses, the smell of hospital laundry, the sounds around the ward or the experience all together.  I'm not sure how I'll feel emotionally as I go through the pain of bringing this life into the world.  I'm truly overwhelmed tonight as I think about it and can only pray that sleep comes quickly and deeply so tonight will be over soon.  I'm praying that our daughter and myself will go through labour without complications and that when I tell the doctors I'd really like to stay in the hospital for the shortest amount of time possible, that they understand and let us come home.

Thank you for holding our family up in prayer tomorrow, as I should be receiving that phone call to go and begin our induction.  I'll be sure to post an update, and a picture, as soon as I can get home and back on the computer.