Still Here

So, I'm still here. I've had a lot going on the past week or so, with no end in sight any time soon. I will tell you, however, several significant things have happened. Well, one significant thing. The rest is pure brain filter.

We had a sonogram today. Cut to the chase--we know the gender of our third baby. I'm not telling yet, as I'm still digesting. but suffice it to say I'm happy, and--dare I say--excited, and it turns out once again I'm correct on my gut feeling. 3 for 3 if you will.

E's 2nd birthday is this weekend. All week I've been thinking of 2 years ago, how we were waiting and waiting for him to arrive. I was 9 days overdue, hot, grumpy and READY. I was feeling elephantine--as though I'd been gestating for an unreasonably long time. In light of my new mindset, I can't help thinking, "What if it had been him?" Knowing him now, loving him more than anything in the world. Knowing, also, that carrying a baby for 42 weeks increases the chances of stillbirth. Oh, to be so naive as I was back then.

My best friend shared a sad story with me. Friends of theirs are expecting their second baby. At the 18 week sonogram, they learned this baby was not developing kidneys. The odds of this baby's survival are slim to none. They are devastated--and I feel it for them. I really do. I can't imagine how she must feel, being pregnant, waiting for the worst, and still having people ask the stupid pregnancy-buttinski questions. I think of them every day, and while I'm nowhere near religious, I send them good vibes and psychic hugs and support. I urge you to do the same, even though you don't know who they are.

At the end of my visit today, after the sono, my doctor listened on the dop-tone for a heartbeat. She couldn't find it. If I hadn't had a sonogram 20 minutes earlier, I'd have freaked the eff out. But I didn't. The tech didn't write down the heartrate--151 it was--so I just told her. She wasn't worried that she couldn't find it. Amazingly, I was OK with not hearing it again. I think.

I have arrived at a place where I have to just let go. Maybe I'm here for today, but I hope I'm here for good. I can't freak out about everything. I have to just BE. It's hard when I'm still picking up the billion pieces of my shattered trust. But what choice do I have? My new mantra: "What can I do?"

I'll share soon what we learned today. I have mixed emotions about finding out the gender anyway--we never did before. It's a strange sensation knowing who's in there before they arrive, but right now, it's working for me. And if it's afforded me a few moments of relief, happiness, comfort, control, then so be it.