I went to a baby shower yesterday.
Just the thought of it made me feel like my chest would explode. But it didn't. And I didn't cry. Or cringe. Or feel out of place.
Actually, the mother at this shower was a fellow loss momma. Regardless of how nervous I was, I really wanted to be there to support her and celebrate their new little one. And I surprisingly felt more at home than I have anywhere else in a quite some time. (Her awesome mother and mother-in-law and their delicious chocolate cake might have helped with that. :-) )
Last year, her son Matthew was born at 35 weeks 4 days. He had low amniotic fluid that led to some complications with his lungs and kidneys. She had been flown across the country to see a world-renown specialist, but it wasn't enough to save him.
Earlier this month she gave birth to his gorgeous little sister, Kate. She was in the hospital for almost a week under observation for low fluid and questionable NSTs. After a few days of not getting the results they wanted, the doctors sent her in for emergency c-section....at 35 weeks 4 days.
(She's at home now, and they are both doing great, by the way.)
While I was holding Kate, I was amazed by how tiny she is. All 5 pounds of her. It was especially amazing when realizing that our little guy is just about that size already.
And then the reality of this motherhood thing actually started to sink in. Sure, I've technically been a mother for almost two years. But I haven't felt like much of one. Holding her and watching her tiny little smile and hearing her tiny little grunts gave me a completely different look at the little guy growing in my belly. For the first time since I peed on that stick 7.5 months ago, I feel like I'm really bringing a tiny, perfect little person into this world and bringing him home with me.
It's actually pretty terrifying....