Wednesday, March 11, 2009
I have found, through the last 8 weeks, that it is amazing what one can learn to live with. Some days I feel like I am sailing along, getting by, and some days I feel like I merely exist. I found myself feeling low today, and feeling the gravity of the situation, when some days I don't. I had the children out shopping with me tonight - the girls especially were in need of some new spring and summer clothing, which I have been ignoring the last few weeks. I came across the most darling piece of clothing for a baby boy, and I almost bought it, and then immediately thought "why bother". At some point, the preparation has to hault, and the realization has to come that I don't get to plan and shop for this baby like I have for the others. And while I hate to admit it, it's true. This child does not need the amount of clothing my other children have needed, this baby is going to die. And standing there, round as can be, thinking that in the store made my heart ache so. I want this baby so bad. So bad it hurts. I want to raise him, love him, feed him, rock him, sing to him, hold him, burp him, dress him, bathe him just like I have my other children. I want my baby to live. I want to feel joy every time he moves, but I feel reminded that although my child is moving, he is lacking the greater part of this brain. And along with that, I feel the exhaustion that not only comes from grieving, but from being pregnant. I can't eat, I can't sleep as well as I want, my body aches, my ribs hurt, my back hurts, I am tired of giving myself injections because my insulin levels are so off because of the constant stress I feel. I want to feel excited for the baby to be born, but I feel so frightened that he might not live long enough to bring him home, which is my most secret wish. I am afraid of how I am going to feel once the baby is born, and dies. I'm afraid to get pregnant again, although I want to, more then anything else in the world. I'm afraid to put my whole faith in knowing I'll bear a healthy child again. I still feel frustrated at the great lack of support I long for from my family and Andrew's, and I worry that this is going to change my relationship with some individuals forever. I don't know how to go back, and realize that I never can. Our lives somehow are being molded by our Maker and some day we'll know and understand why. I am willing to serve the Lord in this way, but every day I feel more inadequate to fulfill this sacrifice. Oh how we love this child and will be eager to meet him, and pray for many tender mercies along the way.