(I wrote this near the end of my pregnancy this time, but neglected to share it then. The last few weeks of pregnancy were agony and sometimes it is hard to share about the struggle in the midst).
Every day begins with careful concentration. It is a necessity for me to kick count before my day officially begins. Laying still, focusing in on movements, counting, breathing, praying.
Every night finishes with a recap of movement. It is essential that I track the movements throughout the day before succumbing to slumber. Remembering, recalling, pattern noticing.
Pregnancy after loss is filled with paradoxes.
Joy at feeling movement for the first time, or when you recognize awake times when your baby is playing. Tension when the movement is extreme so you worry a cord accident is going to occur, panic when movement has stilled or ceased when it shouldn't have.
Building excitement for the first ultrasound or doctors appointment, only to have it clouded with dread that this is the time you will find out something is wrong. Feeling that anxiety every single appointment, every ultrasound
Passing those monumental time frames (12 weeks, 24 weeks, 37 weeks) and them not meaning anything this time around. Trying to take hope in the movement of time, but feeling frightened as time nears the end.
