This is the view from our front door:
Beautiful - but treacherous. I'm at the stage of pregnancy where, by instinct, I slow down, withdraw and go just that little deeper inside myself. But, previously, I've been this heavily pregnant during the dog days of summer (three autumn babies). I've never been forced into this sort of hibernation before.
When it first snowed, I was so excited - the potential for a white Christmas, the first I can remember (and it was!). But since Christmas, there have been four people and two guinea pigs living in what are feeling increasingly cramped conditions. Cabin fever and Pregnancy after Loss anxiety are not making for pleasant bedfellows. We have had lots of fun, the great Christmas LE.GO rebuild was a great success - Ben is now able to have full on St.ar Wa.rs LE.GO battles now that we have reconstructed most of his battle fleet.
But it's all come to head today. The children have been off school and Dave has been off work and I was supposed to go to the hospital for my 36 week scan and my final appointment with my consultant - the one where I would get to know Jurgen's birthday for definite, the one where I'd be booked in for a pre-operative blood draw and meeting with the anaesthetist. In other words, an appointment I *really* wanted to go too. We couldn't get through to the hospital - the road was blocked and we couldn't use the car. Buses weren't running and people have generally been hunkering down and keeping warm. In the scheme of things, it isn't a big deal. The appointment is rescheduled for next Wednesday and, fortunately, little one has been as good as gold. As if realising that mama needs extra reassurance today that things are okay, Jurgen has been more active than he/she has managed in a while (even in my voluminous belly, space is at a premium). But, it hasn't helped my anxiety levels. In the unlikely event I were to go into early labour, could I get to the hospital? Would an ambulance make it onto the ice rink that is our estate? What if there's a problem with my placenta or umbilical chord that might have been picked up today, an issue with fluid or growth? Might it be too late next Wednesday? Given the pregnancy I've had, it's such an unlikely scenario - but then so was a healthy baby dying 7 minutes before she arrived in the world at the end of an uncomplicated labour. ... unlikely isn't impossible and I'm having to force myself to take deep breaths and find a little bit of optimism from somewhere.
I don't need sunshine and roses but a thaw would be nice.
