Last October, I remember waking up heartbroken each morning anxious about the idea of carrying another child at some point. Here I am, one year later, still heartbroken and anxious, but hours away from giving birth to our second child.
Over the last few days, I wondered if I would want to write a blog post this morning, and ultimately decided to because I didn’t sleep well last night. I’ve always found writing to be calming. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that I had the urge to do so upon dragging myself out of bed. Putting my thoughts in writing seems to help me process what I am thinking and feeling.
Is it really possible to be so incredibly anxious and excited at the same time? Apparently. It is as if two parts of my being are battling it out in my head. The part that has relived Isabelle’s birth over and over in the last 24 hours is completely terrified. There are so many things that can go wrong. Everything had been perfect when we left for the hospital last time. Certainly, things could go terrible wrong again.
The other part of me is so incredibly excited to meet the little wiggly boy that has been squirming in my belly for months. If he is anything like his daddy, I am in trouble ;-) I am so looking forward to seeing his tiny face and welcoming him into this crazy world and our family.
Both sides of this battle in my head are strong. I have found myself repeating the first part of Proverbs 3:5 over and over again the last few days: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart.” I am not sure if I am doing a good job of trusting Him yet, but perhaps if I keep praying that verse in the coming hours, I will.
Now that I really think about it, pregnancy after loss in general has been a day-by-day battle that seems to have peaked today – the day of Mark’s scheduled birth. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It makes perfect sense because this is the point in my last pregnancy when my entire life was turned upside down. Naturally it is going to be the peak of anxiety for me.
I know that after his birth, I will move into a different chapter of my grieving journey, the same way that I did when I found out I was pregnant with Mark. It is a good thing that pregnancy is nine months long. It has given me a lot of time to process the idea of raising a child, knowing that I never got the opportunity to reach those milestones with my first-born.
Regardless, today is the day. Ready or not, it is here. In a few hours, I will be a mother of two – a tiny saint in heaven and, God willing, a tiny miracle in my arms. Isabelle’s picture will prominently sit in my hospital room the next few days. I take some comfort knowing that our beautiful St. Isabelle Clare is praying for Matt, Mark, and me today. Please join her in prayer for our family during what is sure to be an emotional day.