Anxious.

At my appointment next week, the doctor is going to start doing cervical measurements. He also said something about looking into stitching my cervix.

I'm happy they are taking things more seriously this time and that they are taking better precautions. But I'm beyond nervous about all this. The last time I had stitches, I had my face sewn back together after a bad head injury in high school. I know these stitches are different, but that's what I keep picturing when I think of all this stuff.

The anxiety has brought on a lot of really bad nightmares. Most of them completely unrelated to the pregnancy, but really bad, nonetheless. And the tension in my back and shoulders is causing me a lot of pain lately. I really didn't think this would be that big of a deal for me.

Have any of yall had to have these stitches?


On another note, a friend of a friend lost his wife this weekend during childbirth. Their son wasn't due until April 20, so they didn't have much for him yet, other than some clothes. Regardless of what they had for him, unexpectedly becoming a single father of a preemie is a heart breaking nightmare. Please keep the family in your prayers.

Decisions.

Major decisions to be made over here soon.

Do I stay or do I go? (The Navy, that is.)


This one should be an easy one, especially with a baby on the way. But it's not. And I'm starting to stress myself out over it.


Before the Navy, I talked my worries and frustrations out with my great friend Andy.

Now, I turn him up on my ipod for a while and get lost in deep conversations with him even though he's not actually around to hear or answer me. Truth be told, he "talked me through" the roughest parts of losing my babies.

Tonight was one of those nights. Except this time, I have these awesome little things called bellybuds.

They're made for pregnant bellies and preset at safe levels for the baby. (You can't hear it, only the baby can. You use a splitter so you can use your headphones for you.)

The little one and I have been listening to Uncle Andy for most of the evening. And enjoying the cookies Bryan left for us when he went to class. It makes my heart happy.

Baby Steps.

When Bryan and I first met, he always wore running shoes with hot pink laces. The students he worked with thought it was hilarious, and a lot of people actually came to know him just by those laces.

We were at the mall one night, and he saw a pair of pink Chuck Taylors. He laughed and said he should get some since everyone loved his pink laces so much. They didn't have any in his size.

When I got home, I found some online and ordered them. When he opened them, he laughed hysterically. He didn't think I would remember. Or that I would actually get them. He wore those things everywhere.




We have sorta been at odds with each other lately, especially over the baby. He is terrified that something will go wrong again. He is even more terrified that he will get attached to another baby that he will have to say goodbye to. I'm trying to stay optimistic. To the point of not letting myself think about the reality of babies dying. I feel like I'm not being a good mother if I can't at least be a little excited instead of dwelling on all those what if's.




When I was at Kohl's last week, I tried to distract myself from that horrible fall by looking through baby stuff for an upcoming baby shower. Even though I was looking for someone else, I saw so many things I wanted to get this baby. I kept hearing Bryan's words though. That it's too early. That I need to slow down because I might not even bring this baby home.

And then I saw these.

Itty bitty baby Chucks.

I remembered Bryan in his pink Chucks, and for a minute I pictured Daddy and baby both wearing their Chucks together. I think I might have actually squealed with excitement.

I hesitated for a few more minutes because I knew Bryan would probably think it wasn't a good idea.

But then I thought about it. This baby could die tonight. Or tomorrow. Or next week. But so could Bryan. Or my parents. Or my sister. I don't love any of them any less. So why should I love my baby any less? Why should I not enjoy every minute of this tiny life, regardless of how long it's here with me?

So here's to making this pregnancy a good one...and finding some balance between excited expecting mother and neurotic pregnant lady.

Baby steps, right?