The long wait.

So we've been back from Key West since early Monday morning and I have tried to write on here about 10 times so far.  Each time, the words and thoughts that are swirling around in my head are just too much and I normally just close out the window.  I am still here though, and in serious need of some sort of release.

It was a great trip.  The weather was beautiful, the food was great, our B&B was goregous.  It was nice to have some time to spend with M one on one, since our jobs and the pregnancy doesn't leave us much time to just "be".

I realized on this trip that one of my worst flaws may be the fact that I cannot simply relax and "do nothing".  I always feel like I'm missing something.  Of the 5 days that we were in Key West, we pretty much did everything touristy there was to do, visited the beach, had a massage.. etc.  At 6 months pregnant, I never once stopped to take a nap.  I finished a book between the airport and waiting for M to finish getting ready one morning.  I think part of my problem is that when I'm not busy, I think... and thinking lately has been really, really tough on me.

I thought getting away would be the cure-all for the anxiety I am feeling over Friday's ultrasound.  I figured some sunshine, fresh seafood and the sea would the cure for all that ails me.  And to be perfectly honest- I am just exhausted this week.  The only time I could find to worry last week was late at night, long after M's breathing got shallow.  I blamed it on being 6 months pregnant and in a new environment, but with every kick (Bertha's getting so strong.. I'd hate to feel her jabs if I didn't have my placenta in the front shielding my poor belly!) I just couldn't help but fear the worst.  I came home exhausted, even more fearful and just emotionally spent.

I feel very alone.  M finally felt her kick last week and while his eyes got really big, he doesn't have the connection I have with her- he doesn't talk about her unless I bring it up first.  My Mom is still in her denial phase about all of this, which stings since she basically makes a HUGE deal out of everything (including having to get a tooth pulled today.. you woulda thought somoene was dying..).  My Dad, surprisingly, has provided me the most comfort, but I can't talk to him without crying.  He told me this morning he'd spent the morning at the chapel praying for us before work again and it rips me apart- I have always felt so strong and secure in my faith and I honestly feel it going right out the window.  It's not that I can't fathom that bad things can happen and not that I believe God is punishing me.. it's just I feel so damn disconnected right now and I don't know how to get that peace that everything will work out back.  My sister was great the first week or so- texting every day, letting me vent... but she was on vacation with her boyfriend and had the time.  Now that she's back to real life with the kiddos, I haven't heard from her.  It hurts.  The few girlfriends I've told have been great- asking when the scan is and saying comforting things.  Key West was the worst.  Everywhere we went people smiled at me, told me how great I looked, asked how far along I was.  When I told them I was having a girl they all just beamed.  It was hard for me to play the part of naive pregnant lady.  I figured a 30 second convo probably didn't need me adding in, "But she could die..." but like I said, I just feel so fucking alone all the time.

As goes along with never sitting still, I am a planner.  There is a part of me that wants to get through Friday and then to Monday, when we'll hopefully get results.  Then hopefully I can breathe a huge sigh of relief, start planning the nursery, registering for showers, giving my sister my shower list, and buying tons of pink clothes because I know my baby is okay.  I don't think I'll ever be really sure that things are going to work out, even when she's here, but it will be a huge weight off my shoulders.  The other, more cynical part of me, knows that 48 hours from now I might be wishing to live these moments of carefree unknowingness (even ones filled with worry and fear) for ever and ever.

So, I sit and I wait.  I work at the office, putting out fires that the re-org has introduced.  I find myself laughing with co-workers and playing with Lucy.  And then the sick feeling comes back.  The nagging feeling that catches in my throat.  The one that haunts me when I wake up and when I lay my head down at night and especially when I'm least expecting it.  I don't know what to do.  This limbo feels like it's taking forever.

We went to the hospital for a tour on Monday night.  We saw the nursery.  We saw a sweet little baby who was a bit jaundiced under the sun lights.  Is it sick that I wish for "just" jaundice?  I looked at those little tiny beings, rooting around, looking at their hands, crying for their moms and it hit me that GOOD GOD THIS COULD NOT HAPPEN FOR ME.  And I stuffed it down, smiled and cooed like all the other big bellied ladies and wondered when will this end?

Morbid thoughts overtake me all the time.  Like... would we bury her or cremate her?  While M and I both think we want to be cremated, there's something about having a place to go and visit her that is comforting.  Besides, what do you do with baby ashes?  Keep them somewhere?  What happens after I die?  Do they get passed down along the family until someone somewhere decides that they are worthless like Grandma's lamp?  This is usually when my mind kicks in, "STOP.  SHE IS NOT GOING TO DIE.  She is more than likely going to be fine.  You will look back on this worry and laugh.  You will be exhausted from taking care of an infant, you will be rushing her to daycare in the mornings even later than you already are getting out of the house, you will be pissed that you aren't pumping enough breast milk.  Your worries will be whether or not this is PPD, whether her temperature is too high and why in the fuck your families won't go home."

I just can't quiet my mind.  The fear is constantly there.  I want to pray, to take solace in my faith and it JUST isn't happening right now.  It's not that I don't believe.  I just can't right now.

49 more hours till the ultrasound... 49 more hours.