Out of focus, one screaming kid in the frame, another getting into who knows what around the corner, clutter in the background, the oldest telling her brother how he's doing it wrong. That's life with kids. It's twenty four hours a day of craziness, annoyances, frustration, joy, and complete bliss. I wouldn't have it any other way. I am truly blessed. And this imperfect picture reminds me that my equally imperfect life is pretty darn great.
I'm twenty-five weeks. For a while now, I've been getting nervous. What if I only have six weeks left? Every baby has come earlier, after all. Jace at 35, Eli at 35, Seth at 34, Evany at 32. What if this boy is even earlier? What if he has to be in the hospital? What if I have to be in the hospital? What would I do, how would I take care of everyone and be in two places at once?
For the first time I feel like I can breathe easier. I could have three more months of this pregnancy left. It sounds surreal to me to think of that, considering my history. But this diagnosis...it makes sense. My Grandmother was just tested and she is positive for it as well. Considering my family's medical history, I have a feeling a lot of us are. The vitamin regimen I'm on is already making a difference, I think. That or I'm just willing myself to feel better, more energetic, less tired.
I won't sugar coat things...the heparin shots are not fun. Finding a way to give myself a shot every eight hours around the clock is challenging. I'm covered in bruises at the injection sites and I don't think I'll be wearing a bikini this summer since it looks like I have some strange disease that manifests itself in small black and blue marks all over the midsection.
But I'm finally able to do something! Every shot is another step towards getting him here safely. Something tangible I can do to help increase the odds that this baby boy will be come out crying. It's so good to be able to do something.
As far as typical pregnancy updates, go, things are boring! It's great. The insulin three times a day, progesterone once a week, and heparin three times a day is all working. I have had zero contractions. I feel good. I'm gaining an appropriate amount of weight. I get out of breath running up the stairs, but that's just me being out of shape since I gave up my gym membership. My stress level is markedly lower than it has been in a long time. This is the easiest pregnancy I have ever had. I love it.
I've always wanted to be able love being pregnant, but things have always been so stressful and scary and and things are finally calm and healthy enough that I can love it. I feel like a big dork, but I do. I love it.
Of course I know things could get crazy again at any time, but I'm trying my hardest to enjoy this time where I can almost feel like a normal pregnant chick who doesn't have to worry.
So I am. I'm enjoying this. I'm enjoying him kicking, I'm enjoying seeing him grow, and I'm actually looking forward to this summer with him on the inside until he's actually supposed to come out. I may need to remind myself of all of this when I am hot, sweaty, and huge in July, but if I'm lucky enough to still be pregnant then, I'll be so thrilled it won't matter. And yes, I do feel like a big dork for gushing like this, thanks for asking.
And that's 25 weeks.