I had absolutely no intention of falling off the wagon for NaBloPoMo, but once again, life has taken a twisty curve and reminded me that I am not in control.
All of a sudden, I remember last weekend, and I should have paid attention to the signs. My brother came home from his job - he works nights - and later told us, there was a car that went off the road, at the curve. This curve regularly collects cars and sometimes lives, it's true. It's happened my whole life. A foggy night and bright lights and everyone was okay, but still. A car off the road. I didn't even pause at the warning sign, blinking its metaphor loud and clear, until now.
When I went to the doctor for my regular appointment a week ago Thursday, I was not expecting to be to told that I had several warning signs of pre-eclampsia. What? I said. Surely not. I felt FINE. Fine, I tell you! This was all probably just part of NAIT, we theorized, a funny coincidence. My body was strong! But they sent me home with a jug and instructions for collecting my urine, and downstairs for a biomed sonogram where I sat there with the tech and literally watched my child in utero breathe.
My overwhelming emotion with the situation was impatience. Ain't nobody got time for this, indeed. And we went home for the weekend and had fun and I am so, so very glad we did, because by Monday they said bed rest and on Tuesday morning they said, we'll have the baby next Tuesday.
It turns out that I forgot something. I forgot that I have tiny issues with control, and everything was not going according to plan. This has been hard. I have cried, of course, because nobody wants to have their baby 5 weeks early (even though he'll be one day shy of 36 weeks). I have cried because all I have wanted this entire crazy treated pregnancy is to swoop past the NICU with my second child, victorious, lucky, blessed. I will still give anything for that, but having to really face the possibility has been terribly hard. Over and over we have said to each other, "this year has been terrible but we are going to end it on a good note!" and now I feel that I have should have known that we couldn't expect everything to be fine. I have cried because this messed up all my neat plans, because I have less time with just Thomas than I expected, that I ruined Thanksgiving for my family with this body who is obviously, QUITE OBVIOUSLY, done with being pregnant. I have always been healthy - as I like to say, ridiculously healthy. I barely get a cold. My immune system is strong and mighty, it doesn't fall apart on me. Except for when it does.
Last Monday, every tree seemed to burst into flame. It was a ridiculous beauty. I couldn't believe how pretty they all were, and pointed out the most noticeable ones to Thomas as we drove to school. It is funny how much you can miss even the boring drive back and forth to school, and how important it is. Just the daily rhythm of life is the ordinary holy time, not kairos but chronos. When what little you do is lost to you, so that you can move slowly and carefully and sit still, with your mind whirring of everything you wanted to do and everything you must let go of - there is a lesson in that, and I am trying to learn it. Even though I don't want to, and asking for help and letting things go is as hard as they say. I am not as spiritually evolved as I want to believe, and I'm sure it's good for me to realize that.
Now we're down to waiting just one more day. I am determined, as much as I can be, to hang on to Tuesday. My sweet mama will be here in the morning, we have cleared out our room to make room for a wee one, and prepared the nursery as best we can. Beaux has been his very-Beauxness and dealt with things in his quiet, strong way. Last night I read Thomas a story and laid in the bed with him (per his request) and of course, the tears flowed. He made his Pete the Cat kiss me. Everything will change, it will all be different, and I am scared. And that's okay. I try to remember that having my own brother was never something I resented, even though sometimes I was a horrible (mostly bossy, impatient) big sister, that having him is simply part of who my family IS and that is how Thomas will feel, too. That one day, when he can commiserate with his brother about how crazy his parents are and have someone to remember things with - that is the gift of a sibling. I can barely imagine loving anyone as deeply and wildly as I do Thomas, and I am hoping for my heart to be sideswiped with that love, once again.
So, I will breathe. I will surrender. Here I go.