There were days,even though I felt as if I just knew he would be okay, actually not knowing for sure had my mind running in circles. So much so that all the running left me tired. Physically tired. I felt like I had made rounds in a crazy circus fun house only it wasn't so fun.
Before I read the positive on the test, I told Adam that if I ever got pregnant again that I would never complain. I lied.
I tried not to. It wasnt the normal pregnant complaining though. I literally felt that Isaac would be safer outside of my womb than on the inside.
I tried really hard not to take every pregnant moment for granted. I basked in the glory of the cravings, of the relaxtion, of the sleep (what is sleep again?). I enjoyed it as much as I possibly could.
There were days when my mind thought he would be okay at 24 weeks, 29 weeks, 32 weeks...if only he could just come out then...he would be fine.
Now, I'm so happy he made it to 39 weeks.
When I told everyone that this was it for us, they were sure I would change my mind and as soon as Isaac came, I would be thinking about giving him and Brody a brother or sister some day.
Well, to put it simply...No way! There is not an ounce of me that wants to go through it again.
I know that sounds so selfish but being pregnant after a loss is totally different than just being pregnant.
My body felt like a ticking time bomb, my womb felt like a granade with a previously pulled safety lever...Just waiting to go off. I felt like I was walking through a land mine for 10 months. I was at war with myself. I felt joy and I felt agony...each pulling at eachother, trying depretly to come out on top.
Everyday, I woke up relieved that I wasn't waking up in pain. I wasn't waking up to my last pregnant day.
There were people that told me. Just wait, you will miss being pregnant.
Nope.
I loved being pregnant with Brody. I loved and hated being pregnant with Isaac. I just wanted my baby here. Safe and in my arms.
There were days when I wanted the wait to just be over.
Worth the wait?
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