Faith

When I explain my relationship with God, or even my religion, I like to say that I am faithful. With my experiences, epiphanies, knowledge, and open ears, I have decided that no religion truly makes sense. Everyone of them has conflict, hypocrites, and hate. Although I do not think that God is without the faults of humans (He did create us, after all) I do not think that I can follow such religions. I call myself a Christian because I believe that a man named Jesus Christ gave himself to death for my sins, but my definition of sins differs from most people. I also have a very confusing view of the Bible, Heaven and Hell, and most of the politics. I don't know of one person who would agree with me completely, so I take all of that out of my relationship with God. I see him as my father, my protector, my light. I pray and I know that I will not always be answered, let alone get what I want. I do not know what is best. I have faith that he does, and any thing else, any doubts, confusion, and pain doesn't touch the faith.

Lately, I've been thinking that I know best. I've been frustrated and hurt by the pain and loneliness that I've felt. When I prayed, it was more of a begging for relief. I couldn't understand why God would make me wait, make me go through daily torture of extreme body pains and the postponing of seeing my husband, my partner in life. I could not see one damn reason for it, not when I've been so strong, not when my spirit was so finally broken. His answer of "No" was beginning to seem cruel more than anything, although I kept praying, kept trying to go into labor so I could end it. So I could be with my husband.

It's amazing the things that I did that did not make me go into labor. Walking and biking for miles. Jumping on the trampoline. Driving on very bumpy roads. With how close my doctor kept saying I was, with how much I was cramping and contracting, I had no idea why this wasn't happening. Even when I walked into my appointment today, she said, "What are you doing here?? I never thought you'd still be pregnant!"

With a smile, I was finally able to say, "Yes, but there is a reason."

I was never meant to go into labor without my husband here. He called 2 days ago to let me know that his superior was insisting that if he was going to take his paternity leave, that he had to take it now. He has training that he must be at in Aug and he had to either come home now or wait several weeks. In about 3 hours, he will start his 22 hour trip to come home to me. My doctor agreed, since starting Saturday I am 39 weeks along, to induce on Monday at 8 am.

Tomorrow I will be picking my husband up at 7 pm at the airport. He will see my stomach. He will feel Jude kick. He will be able to hug me and rub my back when I wake up in pain at night. He will be there to hand me my son when I go into labor, which at the latest will be Monday at 8 am. Here's the trick though! My doctor expects me to go into labor in a couple days. I have continued to dilate and am cramping constantly. My contractions are not regular, but they do happen all of the time. There is a very, very good chance that I will go into labor naturally with my husband here.

Which is, as I'm sure you've figured out by now, how it's supposed to be.

Keep the faith.

I didn't take the normal route.

I didn't even take the suggested route. In my junior year of high school, it was uncertain if I would even graduate. I did graduate, but it was a combination of moving to another city, home schooling, another high school, and a credits only school that made it happen. (Not to mention getting a lot of problems taken care of, which were the reason I was having such a hard time functioning and going to school.

College had always been the next step, so I surprised everyone by joining the Army right before I graduated. I felt like I needed a structured plan to really get a good start to my future, and I wanted to fight for it. I enjoyed the physical activity and the way that the only way to get any respect was to give it completely. I thrived under the intense atmosphere.

Unfortunately, life throws curve balls that no one can plan for and all we can do sometimes is try to keep up. I met a man through a few friends. Bryan was older, good looking, and what really interested me was the fact that he was also in the Army. We talked a few times on the phone, bonding over the fact that we enjoy the military structure, and he gave me advice on how to be successful in the Army. I was enamored and impressed by him.

On our first date, we went to a pool hall to play pool. From there, we went to a party, driving our own cars. I had plans early in the morning, so I didn't drink at the party, which is why when he asked me to give him a ride home because he was drinking, I didn't hesitate. He raped me that night, and I was left damaged in ways that I couldn't start to understand. Suddenly it felt like my fascination with the military and with Bryan were wrapped together, and it took only a few months for everything to fall apart. When I finally turned to my superiors for help, it was too late, and my Master Sergeant recommended that I get discharged from the Army, with a note on my record to welcome me back should I ever choose that route again.

I moved to live with my mom and grandparents to get my life together. I enrolled in college, but was still unable to really function and ended up dropping out. At a low point, I went to the mall to see my cousin's new job at a museum. There I met her boss, who offered me a job. A science museum seemed so far away from anything I'd ever considered before and I wanted to do something, anything with my life. I started work the next Monday.

I arrived at 9:50 am at the front gate, and was greeted by a handsome man that I had noticed the week before. He asked me if there was anything he could do for me, and I told him it was my first day. He opened the gate, brought me inside, and gave me a tour of the museum, telling me tips and tricks of how to work there. I was nervous, but I was enjoying the new start. Turned out that this man was having a rough week, and to cheer him up one day, we went to go play pool with my cousin and a friend of his. We became inseparable after this, always on the phone, always hanging out after work. We started dating.

If I had not had a troubled youth, I wouldn't have had a hard time graduating high school. If I hadn't of had a hard time graduating high school, I wouldn't have joined the army. If I hadn't of joined the Army, I wouldn't have gone on a date with Bryan. If I hadn't of gone on a date with Bryan, I wouldn't have been raped. If I hadn't of been raped, I would have never moved to live with my mom and needed the new start. If I had not needed a new start, I would have never met my husband that day at the museum.

I am not most 21 year olds. I am starting life as a stay at home wife and mom, and I could not be happier. I have definite plans (with so much encouragement from my husband and family) to return to school and obtain a degree. This will take me longer then most, but I will be learning and loving the entire time. I get to start my life a survivor, and I get to start it with my best friend and lover by my side, and my baby boy in my arms.

A reminder that I am not in control

I thought that I was for sure in labor. I talked to my aunt about it, waited a few hours, talked to my doctor about it, and got the "Go get checked out at labor and delivery." In other words, I sounded like I was in labor and I should go to the hospital.

My aunt and I packed my back (because I was so prepared like that) and we calmly made out way to the hospital. I kept saying that it wasn't necessary, that I was almost sure I wasn't in labor, but I couldn't help but feel that excitement build inside of me. We got to the hospital and made our way to labor and delivery. People walking by gave me knowing looks and smiles, and I felt the excitement build even more. I got dressed in gowns and they hooked my stomach up to a monitor. With the nurses taking everything so seriously, I thought, "I must be in labor!"

And an hour later I was sent home with, "You couldn't have known unless you came in, but you're not in labor. Come back next time and maybe it'll be different!"

Sigh. I don't think that anyone can understand that sort of disappointment and embarrassment unless you've been there. I decided to take things into my own hands and make it happen.

I started off bike riding because it makes me contract. Not sure why, but when I go bike riding, I have contractions almost the entire time. It used to scare me, but now when I ride, I start getting excited. "Perhaps this will make it happen!" When the first 2 mile bike ride didn't work, I started walking, as this is the second most used way to go into labor. Walking with my medical community astounding swollen legs is not easy. I did it anyway. When I was in too much pain, I simply walked to the end of the street and back. When I felt better, I walked a mile. No labor, and my feet felt like falling off. Getting a bit desperate, I asked my aunt to help me on the trampoline. I bounced and bounced and then sat down and had my aunt bounce and bounce me, like popcorn. (We called it pop-a-baby.) No luck.

I'm guessing that what everyone has been saying, ("When that baby is ready, he'll come out!") is the heart wrenching truth. New studies even say that the sure-fire way (sex) doesn't actually work unless you're about to go into labor anyway. And according to the fetal stress test that they did at the hospital, not only is he fine where he is, he's thriving. More responsive then most babies. Apparently I have a very happy uterus. Great.

Am I giving up? No. Staying active helps my morale at the very least, helps keep me healthy and my blood pumping, and at most will send me into labor. Do I expect to go into labor? I must say, I've given up hope at going into labor before she said she would induce. (Because of the extreme swelling, cramping, and the fact that he's now making his way to 8 lbs, she said that she would induce at 39 weeks.)

That seems so far away, even though it's only 6 days. Everyday is long and a struggle to get through, but the days will tick by, and soon I will have my baby with me, not to mention my husband. Thank goodness for my family for providing support, distractions, and amusement to help me get through the "home stretch". Soon, everything will change. Soon.

Hope!

This has information about my body and body parts in general. If you read it, you get over it.

So the doctor appt went in a direction that I had not predicted. Will she induce earlier then 39 weeks? No. Have I dilated anymore? No. Is there hope? Yes!

Did you know that only 15% of women have their water break naturally? The rest of them are far into labor before the doctor breaks it for them. (Your 'water breaking' is actually a tear in the amniotic sac, causing amniotic fluid to either gush or drip down your legs. When this happens, the baby must be delivered within 24 hours no matter what because of the increased risk of infection.) Most of the time women know that labor has started not because of their water breaking (unlike what the movies make it seem like) but by the intensifying and constant contractions.

While my doctor was checking my cervix, she said that not only was it effacing (thinning out) but she could also feel my water sack pressing against it. She told me to set an appointment for a week later, and that if I hadn't gone into labor by then she'd set a date to induce, but that she'd be surprised if my water didn't break in less then a week.

That'll teach me to listen to books, statistics, and stories of "normal" labors. I asked her some good ways to naturally encourage my water to break, and other than the obvious way that's not possible due to absence of husband, I'll be walking, dancing, and aiming for potholes in the road while in the car. Wish me luck!

*bounce bounce bounce bounce*

Hope

Although as a writer, I'm not supposed to apologize for my work, I have reread this and I hate the tone. I sound (and perhaps am in this moment) very bitter and defeated. I considered not posting it because I know I'll feel better later, and that I am very happy about my healthy pregnancy, but I thought that if I'm documenting these last 2 months that I should document everything, including the ugly side.

It's interesting how quickly our perspectives can change. With all of the contractions, how big my belly is, and the fact that 2 weeks ago I was beginning to dilate, most people were predicting that I would not make it 2 weeks. My aunt was nervously almost certain that I wouldn't. I began two weeks ago hoping that I would continue this pregnancy longer. Then... everything froze. No more dilation. No different contractions. I was so let down at my last doctor's appointment that I was brought to tears. Apparently Jude would like to stay longer then anyone predicted.

I am in the middle of my 37th week of pregnancy, which means I am considered full term. My stomach is 44 inches around, and I constantly get the comment, "I was never that big during my pregnancies!" I have gotten to the point that I am physically miserable. Simple activities such as walking, showering, or even standing up take immense amounts of energy. When I wake up (5 or 6 times) during the night to empty my bladder, rolling over, putting my weight slowly on one foot, then the other, then bracing myself as I stand up, straighten my back, and freeze, hoping that I continue to stay on my feet takes up so much energy that in the morning, I force myself to get out of bed and never feel rested. My knees are now in the habit of locking up because they are so water logged. (Twice the size that they used to be.) Despite me swimming, elevating my feet, taking it easy, and drinking about a gallon and a half of water a day, I am still incredibly swollen. Fortunately (or unfortunately, as I've begun to inadvertently think of it) the only danger of swelling is high blood pressure, and my blood pressure is fine and dandy. So, no need for induction.

In fact, despite my numerous and extensive complaints, I am still having a very healthy pregnancy. Jude still moves as if he has room. (My bruised ribs want to make sure that you know that he doesn't.) Torn stomach muscle from the pressure? No big deal as long as it's not a hernia. Swelling so bad that I am not only a memory foam mattress, but my joints refuse to work correctly? Bah, who cares as long as my blood pressure is fine! All day cramping? I should be excited, it's a sign of labor coming soon! (And been happening constantly for over a week *rolls eyes*.) Painful contractions? Keep track of them, and when they're 5 minutes a part, that means labor. Hands and arms fall asleep randomly in the day time and constantly at night? That baby must be sitting on a nerve! Hips popping in and out of place? Well, of course they have to move out so there is enough room to come out! Clumsiness and general exhaustion so bad that I've fallen numerous times in the last week or so? As long as there is no vaginal bleeding or low fetal movements afterward, everything is fine and dandy! Heartburn and daily nausea during late 3rd trimester? Don't worry, that won't hurt the baby at all.

Great. Glad I'm having such a healthy pregnancy.

Tomorrow I have a doctor's appointment. I'm taking every physical and emotional complaint that I have and I'm going to beg for an induction soon. I'm not going to lie or fake any symptoms or problems. I am going to let her know that I am never not in pain and have become a useless lump of pregnant lard. I am also praying hard right now. I am praying my little heart out that I have continued to dilate. 1 cm sounded so amazing 2 weeks ago, but after the let down last week and how much life inexplicably sucks, 1 cm dilation has become a cruel joke.

Hope that I'm closer to labor. Hope that I'm dilating. Hope that she'll understand and agree that induction is a good idea. Hope that I can continue to do this if my other hopes crash because the last few days have left me without any optimism.

I say this with all the love in the world.. GET OUT!

I keep thinking that I will get used to being this pregnant. I mean, as humans, we're built to adapt to situations that we don't like, even physically uncomfortable situations. I know people who live with pain day in and day out of their lives. It's amazing.

Unfortunately for the pregnant women, we not only have no time to get used to the circumstances, but they also constantly change and worsen. I think about a week ago and how I would love to go back to how I was feeling physically then.

So hear this Jude! I am just a few hours from being considered full term. (37 weeks! w00t w00t!) I am utterly exhausted. My feet, calves, and thighs are swollen and although I'm not positive, I think my a$$ is asleep just from sitting on it. My stomach muscles have separated and one is swollen and sore. My contractions alternate from annoying to down right debilitating. (I think pregnancy turns normal women a bit masochistic. I start getting hopeful and happy when I feel more than one awful contraction in a row, hoping for labor, but alas, they stop and disappoint.) I have gained a total of 43 pounds! (I would be concerned, but my doctor is very happy about this and only complains about my weight when I don't put more on.)

To put it lightly my baby Jude, you have overstayed your welcome. Prepare to vacate because I am going to be using every safe, natural trick in the book to encourage your insane entrance into the world. I hope you're ready because I sure am.

Nesting

Because of the complications of where I was going to living for the birth, where I had my main baby shower, and just overall confusion, most of Jude's things were at my mom's house, 300 miles away. A couple days ago, she drove up in a truck with an incredible amount of stuff. Baby clothes, car seat, strollers, baby swings, pumping materials (yikes! Scary looking stuff) bottles, toys, blankets, weird looking pillows, pacifiers, a charger for my car for my breast pump (*wonders what situation I will need this in*) a baby bumper, an infant to toddler high chair, a bouncy chair thing ("Babies LOVE those! You'll need one."), and about a thousand other randoms, half of which I had to ask, "What the heck do I need this for?"

It filled the truck bed and the back seat and just about gave me a heart attack. Half of this stuff I'd been given at the baby shower, and the other half had been great finds from my mom. Gently used baby helping instruments that probably saved me a couple grand (at least, from the look at this!). We unloaded all of this stuff and started organizing. Although I'd been nervous and downright dreading this because nothing says "You're gonna have a baby!" by owning more things for the baby than yourself, but as we got started, I didn't want to stop.

Tearing off tags, putting things into piles of soft toys, hard toys, things the baby will eat from, things I will need for breastfeeding, linens, clothes, first aide, diapers, diaper changing accessories, bath time fun, and those random little things that I've been told I have to have, and I was in heaven. Asking my mom questions, laughing and complaining about how much they constrain onesies together (seriously? Are they going to escape if you don't glue them to the cardboard, tape the arms down, roll them up, and then tape the roll together?) and talking about how each thing needed to be cleaned and put away. Suddenly my room is a nursery and I couldn't be happier about it.

There were some tense moments. The small tiff of a wicker basket ("No mom, I do not need another wicker basket." "Yes you do! It's to keep his dirty clothes in, separate from yours!") which lead to the inevitable debate over whether babies need a special detergent for washing their things, ("Sara, what if he has an allergic reaction to the non-hypoallergenic wash that you use and he stops breathing?" "I'll take off his clothes?") but it all ended up working out as we compromised. (I now own a wicker basket for his clothes and am currently washing everything he wears with Dreft! A newborn safe clothes detergent.)

I couldn't have done any of it without my mom. I was incredibly overwhelmed just by looking at it, and she helped break it down for me. The more that we organized and worked and she told me how to clean each thing and what I'd need it for, the more confident I felt in this. Now, I am a cleaning machine, throwing everything removable and cloth into the wash (With Dreft, baby safe detergent!) and even considering counting just how many onesies I have.

Speaking of, I have a load of laundry to switch out, and I will leave you with this one question: How do I clean the cloth items that cannot be removed from the appliance it covers, like a carseat or stroller? If anyone can answer me that, they will probably save me from cutting off everything, washing it, and then sewing it back on. I'm on a roll people.

Surprise doctor appointment!

Warning: This may have too much information. If you decide to read it, you decide to get over it. Thanks!

I've prided myself in my first pregnancy as not being one of those new moms who calls the doctor at every tingle and twinge. I called when I had such horrible morning sickness that I was afraid to go into a public place, when I started having the first contractions, and today. Today I called because so much has changed since my last doctor's appointment and I thought that I should check in before my next appointment, which is the 15th. I was even reluctant to call because of me not wanting to be one of those first times moms.

(Here I want to point out how amazing my doctor's office is. I called and asked to speak to a nurse, and I spoke to a nurse not even 2 minutes later. The nurse had my chart pulled up and was able to respond to me with my own medical history as the conversation was going on. I love it.)

When I did tell her what was going on, the fact that Jude dropped, that my blood pressure was higher than normal, and that my contractions are sometimes regular and painful (Last night, I timed them and they were about 7 minutes apart for an hour, then tapered off.), she asked a couple questions and then put me on hold. I just wanted to get some perspective and to see if my appointment should be moved up a few days, so I was surprised when she came back with, "Can you come in right now?"

With wide eyes, I said sure and quickly jumped into the shower. (There is something just wrong about being funky when at a doctor appointment.) I grabbed my aunt's van and drove to the doctor's office. (Effectively leaving her with no transportation because my car was blocking in the other vehicle, and I took my keys with. Sorry Mik!) I was so proud of having a full bladder and not getting lost that I wasn't even upset about the wait, unlike Scott who told me to yell and get someone fired if I wasn't seen soon. (He's so cute.) After about an hour, I got called back.

First of all, they sprung something new on me. I expected to get my cervix checked and I believe I may have yelped, "You want me to swab what WHERE?" when they handed me the swab to test for Step B when I went to go give a urine sample. After that, it was just like another appointment. They look my blood pressure (normal) and asked me all the normal questions. After that, the doctor came in and talked to me before she had me strip, which is always a bonus.

I talked to her about my concerns of the lack of control I have in this situation. We talked about what birth plan would be right for me, what the chances were that she would be my doctor for the actual delivery (she said that she delivers 8 out of 10 of her babies), and what I should expect from the staff in general. I explained the strange situation that I'm in with my husband being gone and she let me know that although it's not the norm anymore, it will be no problem to have the baby without him. She let me know how my nurses will be my absolute allies and how I will be so focused that nothing else will matter but my son. (All of this and I didn't even have an appointment. I love my doctor.)

After this, she handed me a paper robe and told me to undress from the waist down. I was waiting for her when she came back about two minutes later and she quickly checked my cervix. (My first time. Irritating, but not as bad as a pap smear, which isn't bad at all.) She pulled me up and explained that I am 1 cm dilated. My eyes kind of widened, knowing that this could mean a lot or nothing at all, as many women go weeks being slightly dilated. (When you push the baby out, you're 10 cm dilated.) For me though, this is the beginning, and I am very excited.

She told me that any guesses she gives me are just that, guesses, because Jude is in charge. I nodded, and asked to hear the guesses anyway. She said, "I don't think you'll deliver tomorrow, although I could be wrong. I definitely don't think you'll deliver after July, although there is a small chance I could be wrong. In my experience, with the baby being in position and dropped like he is, with you starting to dilate, and with all the uterine activity (contractions) you're experiencing, I give you two weeks. Feel free to call or even come in if you're concerned about anything, and keep the appointment on the 15th."

So there it is folks. At this point, I'm taking it easy because I want to make it to the 21st. (Which is, funny enough, in exactly two weeks.) After those two weeks, my aunt and uncle will be done with the instructor's course and my husband will be back from Germany. Also, in 2 weeks, I will be 37 weeks along. Although Jude has fully developed organs at this point and is staying in only to put on weight, I would like to give him a little more padding for his first time into the world.

Operation make it two more weeks!

This is what you get when you have sex, kids.

I always wondered how new moms went from getting a full night sleep to BAM BABY and having to wake up all the time to change diapers, feed, and just hold the crying baby. Such a change is a shock on the body, and I wondered how anyone did it at all.

Ah. They don't go from a full night sleep to no sleep at all! There is a gradual process in the pregnancy that you get less and less and less sleep. For me, it was insomnia in the first trimester. I just couldn't sleep because my brain and emotions wouldn't turn off. In the second semester, it was actually much easier. In fact, I think it's the second semester that must hook women into this whole pregnancy thing because the first is emotional roller coaster as you try to get used to the idea that a baby is going to pop out of your vagina, and the third?? Well the third..

The third trimester is hell. The baby is so large that your insides are bruised, your stomach is the size of someone with new gastric bypass surgery, you have so much heartburn that you now have favorite flavors of Tums (the strawberry and orange are really quite nice. Like candy!), your hips bones are being pushed apart until they feel like they're going to pop like a wishbone, and sleep is now a thing of the past!

In the third trimester, there is one position that you may sleep; On your side. Your shoulders will complain, as will your aching hips, but your back, spine, and stomach will allow no other position. If you are able to get to sleep despite the hormones and emotions that remind you that you, despite your best efforts, are not ready for an infant, despite the heartburn, the back pain, the hip pain, and the general itchiness of your entire body (Did I mention that? Yeah. You'll want to scratch your skin off), then you shall be woken up several times a night.

Obviously, you will be woken up by all of the above. Just because you find a decent moment to fall asleep doesn't mean that they will let you stay asleep. Oh no! I have woken up with the sudden thought that I don't know how to take care of a newly circumcised penis. I wake up about 3-4 times a night to pee. I wake up because I'm thirsty. I wake up because my baby just kicked the crap out of my rip and I'm wondering if it's bruised. Sometimes I wake up because the heartburn has made me switch positions so my lower back has completely seized up and I can't turn over because my hip won't get back into place. Yeah. Super!

And then there are the surprises. (Perhaps not a surprise now that it happens every 20 minutes or so, but they used to surprise me. That counts, right?) The contractions. Yes, ladies who have yet to experience the joy of pregnancy, contractions are not just a part of labor! Contractions are a part of every day (and night) life. These are considered Braxton Hicks contractions, or practice contractions. Getting your body ready for labor includes making those uterus muscles work! (You will be able to tell that these are not actual, labor contractions because they are not regular and they go back and forth in intensity.) So about 15-20 times a night I get woken up (normally just slightly) by a contraction.

Don't worry though, even if you do find yourself in this pregnancy predicament, there are plenty of ways to ease the unease. I keep Tums by my bed, I full on body hug my body pregnancy pillow and tell myself that I like it, and every time I have a contraction bad enough that it hurts too much to just go back to sleep, I take that as an opportunity to pee. Works like a charm. ;)


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Great Expectations

There is a nest in my back yard. I'm not sure what type of bird as I am normally not a fan of birds in the slightest, but they made their nest in full visibility and I have watched the babies hatch, grow, cry for food, and today, take flight. Right now the parent birds are having a fit as one of their babies is refusing to try again, and is perched above the door. They are flying around him, chirping and showing him how easy it is to fly. The other baby is watching anxiously from the nest, sometimes beating his wings, but hasn't quite taken off yet. Oh wait, the baby bird above the doorway just took off! He's brave.

I got mad at my mom the other day on the phone. I was ranting about how everything feels out of control and she said (about my husband getting leave), "I know that it will work out. You just have to have positive thoughts, and it will work out." A lovely sentiment for sure, but I think that she forgot when she said this just how many times I have tried this and had it fail.

I had positive thoughts that we would get stationed in the United States. Couldn't believe for a second that he would pull out Italy for a first duty station. That went out the window. Then I knew that I would be able to move to Italy before Jude was born. I had no doubts, until I found out how long it takes to get an Italian visa. But of course, we could get him here for the birth. No problem. Right? Wrong. Unless I'm in labor for a couple days, if he gets leave, he will get here after the birth, as he has to wait until I'm in labor to apply.

Even hoping for the best and expecting the worst seems like too much for me. For instance, I found out some more cheery news last night. At the time that my aunt and uncle will be busy taking an instructor course for Krav Maga, my husband will be in Germany. Last time he was in Germany, he was practically unreachable the entire time. So the scenario of me going into labor while they are extremely busy and when I can't call my husband is going through my mind. Great.

And let me tell you, signs that labor is coming are all there! I'm having contractions (braxton hicks) all the time. Jude dropped partially yesterday. Not completely, which my hips are thankful for, but my stomach is lower and I can take a deeper breath. My actual due date is about a month away. With all of the uncertainties of when I will go into labor and who will be there and who I can call and how the labor will go and when my husband will get here.. I'm feeling a bit like I'm on a train that's about to crash and I can't get off.

As I have been reminding myself though, this isn't about the pregnancy. It's not about my comfort or how the labor will go and who will be there. This isn't even about my husband or me. This is about Jude, and he will be in my arms soon. Then this story of my pregnancy will be one that we tell to family members about how crazy it was in the beginning over dinner, while I keep one eye tracked on Jude as he gets into mischief under the table. Our son is healthy and showing all signs that he is ready soon to meet this world, and that's all that matters.


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