Tuesday, 29 December 2009

Never think at 4am.

Because you know, whatever you think, it won't be rational or erudite. I'm seeing a whole lot of the wee small hours right now, thanks to a baby sat firmly and very comfortably, thank you very much, on my bladder plus the whole entertaining rigmarole of trying to turn over in bed. I'm at the point when, if this was a "normal" pregnancy, people would be joking about the wakefulness being "good practice" for baby coming. Except, that even in jest, I can't let people assume that a living, wakeful baby might be a foregone conclusion.

During the day, my grief is muted now. I've learned to let it co-exist alongside all the other emotions. Mostly, my days are okay - even good and happy. It's at 4am that I realise how close to the surface the pain and the horror and the anguish of losing Emma really is - especially right now. It manifests itself as utter and abject fear for her baby brother or sister. Last night I was very suddenly and completely awake at 4am absolutely convinced that this baby had died too. I was utterly paralysed by the terror of going through the loss of a child again. Even when Jurgen tried to reassure me by moving and shuffling and prodding me insistently I couldn't quite shake off the residue of fear. I have felt it all day today, despite good movements from an endlessly obliging fetus.

I am just three weeks away from the date my OB has proposed for my planned section. It really can't come soon enough.

17 comments:

Hope's Mama said...

Oh, Jill. If there was ever a post I understood and could relate to, it was this one. I so get this. I think the hours between 2am and 4am for a pregnancy after loss are the worst. I know I gave the doppler a flogging during those hours and panicked to no end. I spent so much of those hours thinking he had died and even visited the hospital a few times for reassurance. It is not fun and even if you were delivering tomorrow, it would feel like a life time away. So don't worry, I'm not going to say "not long now" as I know countless others in your real life will be.
I'm holding on tight for you. Just keep on keeping on.
xo

Shannon Ryan said...

wow, Jill! Just 3 weeks!?! It feels so fast to me -but I was there just 4 months ago and know how hard it is! :) I think any PAL will have those moments of terrible fear.. how can we not? My worst times have always been alone in the car.. it's when I really let loose with my thoughts and tears.

k@lakly said...

I remember that fear so well, I can still feel it. I had it all the way until they actually handed a screamimg baby to me. And even then I couldn't believe he was really alive. It didn't seem possible. And yet it was. And it will be.
Waiting with you, holding you close these next few weeks.
xxoo

Franchesca said...

All I can say is me too! Hoping these next few weeks will fly by for you!
XO

margaret said...

I too hope that these next weeks fly by for you Jill. I'll be keepin you and Jergen in my thoughts and prayers and will be anticipating his birth story. You're close now Jill, hang in there. Hugs

still life angie said...

I can totally relate to what you are feeling too. I can't help but always sort of jump to the conclusion the baby is gone, when all evidence, including his movements, point in the other direction. Three weeks of anxiety seems like an eternity. But we are all here, dearest Jill, holding you close. Sending you much love. XO

Beth said...

thinking of you, hoping the obliging little baby movements give you some peace. 3 weeks cant come fast enough!

Unknown said...

I wake up every day at about that time thinking exactly the same thing: "move baby, move." And she does, every time. Usually more vigorously than she needs to to reassure me! I think Isobella knows her mummy is a paranoid crazy person!

No, I'm just kidding. We're not crazy. We're just very, very in touch with how fragile life really is. We know how easily it can be taken away.

I suppose what we just have to keep in mind (to avoid total insanity) is just how easy it would be for our babies, on the other hand, to live...

*HUGE hugs* mama... XxXxX :)

Amy said...

Praying for your peace at this time, and hoping the next 3 weeks fly by.

Catherine W said...

I can only imagine. It must be so frightening.

I am thinking of you and your little Jurgen. Keep prodding little one and I hope the next three weeks pass quickly and uneventfully. xo

Karen said...

Thinking of you and hoping these last few weeks fly by. Praying for a happy and healthy delivery of this little one (stay busy to comfort your mumma, wee one!!!!). xo

Rochelle said...

Here's to hoping the next few weeks fly by! PAL is such a difficult thing to endure.

Liz said...

this is good for me to read. right now i feel like i am obsessed with having another baby. which seems so wrong seeing as i just buried my daughter a little over a week ago.the hours of 2-5am are when i have been up since she died, and it seems like i wont ever sleep well during that time again. everything is so close to the surface then...
I pray these three weeks fly by for you and you will be holding a sweet, pink crying baby in your arms in what seems like no time.

Anonymous said...

I hope those 3 weeks go peacefully and quickly.

All the best for this little one and you as a family

Anonymous said...

hoping that those few weeks fly by peacefully...can only imagine how scary it must be.

forward tumble said...

Hey Jill, I've been awake since 4 a.m. and decided to get out of bed... Just to let you know, I'm thinking of you.

Much love
Ines

Beth said...

Jill--
I just found your blog. I soo feel what you are going through. I'm 7 weeks away from my rainbow's birth. It is so hard. I so want everything to be alright, but can't fully believe it until the baby is in my arms alive and well--unattached to any tubes! I hope to keep checking in on your blog! I wish you all the best. You are hope for alotta angel mamas out there including me!
--Beth
www.houselogfamily.blogspot.com