Every day is a paradox. Every day is a beautiful day, one more that I get to have with my beloved genetic child, more than I ever thought I'd get. I take each day as a precious gift from God, to live it to the fullest and enjoy every moment. Yet every day is also filled with wonder. Not just the wonder and awe I feel that we've made it this far, but the wondering of survival. I am at the airport right now, looking at all these people, knowing that they all were easily born from mothers, they all were normal, that this happens all the time and is no big deal.
But it is a huge deal to me. And I wonder if my little one will share the same fate as all these busy people sitting next to me. To survive. To live. Of course only time will tell. Only God knows our fate. And so I continue to torture myself in this waiting game, sitting in my roller coaster car, enduring my self-made free-falls. I scour the pregnancy blogs to learn about missed miscarriages and other sad events where embryos die at the drop of a hat...even after you see the heartbeat. It happens more than I want to admit. One week they're on screen beating away and growing, and the next they're gone, the only evidence of their little lives is a little pigmentation on a screen, so fleeting and surreal. Even scarier is that the body can sometimes think it's still carrying the child, so the mother isn't aware that her baby died. The body is tricked for whatever reason, bullied into going along with it, and the mother sits there helpless and unaware. Such a cruel, cruel fate for both mother and child.
And in doing this internet research, I fear I am feeding a beast deep within that can do absolutely no good for this baby. But I can't help myself and so I read. I read so many stories of women who were confident of the life growing in their bellies, only to be shocked out of their skin when the doctor can't hear the heartbeat, sees retreat in size, defeat in body. Now I guess that would be the ultimate betrayal--none of my weird PMS symptoms could even compare. It makes me think that just because it's going well for me does not mean that God couldn't easily take it away or have some other purpose for my little one, have a lesson yet to be taught to me.
Ugh! You just love sabotaging your good feelings, don't you? Dammit! Stop it! You need to just embrace the good in every moment! I do love waking up every morning feeling the deep ache in my breasts. It reassures me on a daily basis as my nausea, exhaustion, and headaches are pretty irregular. And so maybe I should just stop trying to analyze everything and just live. Who cares anyway? You gonna be scared to live now that you have this kid in you? Man, it's always something, isn't it? If it's not infertility, then it's pregnancy, then it'll be a child, then more infertility, then more pregnancy, then more children. Will you ever live a life of encouragement and excitement? Stop feeding the worry beast and start feeding your soul, you goof!