Baby2's first letter

Dear little baby growing inside me,

I have tried not to be one of those people who only ever talks or posts about their pregnancy. But being high risk and basically living at the hospital and, let's be honest, being unemployed, has left very little else on my mind. You're all I think about, baby. All day, every day.

It's such a change from the last year. My mind was constantly preoccupied with the idea of conceiving you. All the while my heart craved and broke for your older sister. Now, while I still miss your sister greatly, I mostly ache for you to be here. I try to enjoy these last few silent moments alone. The days I can do whatever I want. The nights full of rest. But it feels like I've been pregnant for 2 years. I've been a childless mother for much too long. There isn't a single part of me that isn't ready to have a baby. There's not a single fear about raising you and taking care of you. There's a host of other fears, but those will be laid to rest the moment you're in my arms. Don't you see how badly I need it to be October?

Pregnancy, not motherhood, is the only thing that brings any fear. I wonder what it would be like to have a normal, stress-free pregnancy? I am a member of 2 pregnancy Facebook groups. One is for all mothers giving birth in October 2014. One is for any woman who is pregnant after having lost a baby. It's amazing to see the differences in their posts and their attitudes. My loss group is fearful, but also grateful for every moment. They encourage each other and help each other. The October baby group whines about every ache and pain in pregnancy. They judge each other. They laugh at the women who posts her fears of her baby not moving all day and reply with my favorite response, "It's totally normal. He's just running out of room. Calm down!" 

I almost envy the naivety of these women. What would it feel like to not constantly be counting your kicks and monitoring your movement? What would it feel like to go through a whole pregnancy without a doctor staring a little too long and too intensely at the ultrasound screen? What would it feel like to just assume I would get to keep you at the end? Like it was normal to not lose babies? Sadly, since I've only ever given birth once, my norm is the exact oppostie. Although I've been filled with hope and peace this pregnancy, it doesn't take away my track record. 

Births: 1. Living children: 0

We have unanswered questions about you and your precious, developing body. I hope those questions get answered soon. I've come to peace with every answer I can possibly receive, as long as I get to keep you. Even the worst possible diagnosis for your condition can't be THAT bad, because we've already been given the absolutely worst diagnosis in our previous pregnancy: no heart beat. As long as we don't get that again, we'll be fine. That's been our motto this past week as we wait for answers: "As long as she's alive, we're okay." And you're definitely alive. Kicking me like crazy. I just love you so much. 

I'm not sure why I chose now to write you a letter for the first time. I did these "no send letters" all the time when your daddy was on his mission, and again when Maddie went to Heaven. They've always helped me sort out my thoughts, and type the things that are hard to say out loud. This has been a hard pregnancy, for a million reasons. Even though I have really easy pregnancies physically, I've decided being pregnant is overrated. I just want you here. I've prayed for you since I was a little girl. I waited for you patiently through 9 months of trying. I'm ready to hold you and love you. I'm ready to finally be considered a "real mom." I'm ready for the worry and pain of the last year and a half to melt away when I see your face and hear you breathe. So keep on kicking me baby. You have no idea how much I need you. 

Love always,

Your Mama