16 Weeks 4 Days

This is me, at Balboa Pier at 13 weeks. I look about as good as I felt. Scary.

Today I reached a point in my pregnancy that I made the last time I was on this adventure.

16 weeks and 4 days. That is when I lost the last baby. I am actually to the point of believing I am pregnant, but not to the point that I am certain all will be okay with this little baby.

See, here is the story, to give you a little background. After everything that happened last year, Hubbs and I were DONE. We knew that there was another little baby waiting to come to our family, but our hearts were so broken and spent on the challenges of the year, the miscarriage, the scamming, the failed placements, it was all too much. Amidst it all, we were still remaining faithful to the fact that maybe just maybe Father would bless us with another pregnancy, so throughout it all, with the exception of two months, we were hoping to have another miracle pregnancy. We gave ourselves until the end of the year, and if nothing happened, we would throw in the preverbial towel and call the family building quits. We had had enough.

December was the deadline, and even though it hurt deeply and terribly to know how quickly December was approaching, I knew that by this time, we would have our answer. How much we longed to just be able to move on one way or another and have some form of finality to it all. Either another child would be coming, or we could change our focus and begin enjoying another phase in our lives. It is hard to explain this to others. Close friends who knew what we were going through would question why we were giving ourselves a deadline...if it hurt so much to think of closing the door. I don't know the answer to that, other than, it just made sense and felt right.

Well, the end of November I wrote this post. When I mention starting my period EARLY instead of late. I saw that as a tender mercy, so that I didn't have to wait another four days to find out if yes, or no we were expecting. So, my period came. And then went from coming, to not coming...to being really weird. So weird in fact that when I was still bleeding the next week, I had the thought to take a pregnancy test. The test was positive.

So, in early December...the time of our deadline, we found out that we were expecting a baby. It is hard to describe how I felt. I felt shock, I felt fear most of all. Afterall I was bleeding, and not bleeding, then spotting, etc...etc... I was afraid to even hope. I was afraid to even think about it, when it was all I could think about.

Then I got sick. Way. Sick. So sick in fact I have never felt so icky in my entire life. Puking daily...sometimes five time or more...and having to time driving to the side of the road with my mouth filled with puke and not killing everyone in the car became my new pasttime. Or how about that time my husband saw me barf for the first time in our marriage, as I blew chunks all over our bathroom floor? Ew. So, even though I continued spotting, there was this sign that my body had something going on, and it was encouraging to hear from the doctor that all was well because of this.

So, I bled for the first couple of months with this baby, when it finally stopped I was feeling a lot less nervous, but not completely okay. I was still puking, so that was a good sign.

Finally, after laying on the couch for four months straight, and puking so much I was looking totally hot, er uhm...not, I started feeling a little better. (Although I am writing this at 18 weeks I am still dealing with terrible nausea, I had never experienced it this bad with my other pregnancies. Very strange.)

We had decided not to tell our kids anything about this baby. We felt like they had dealt with enough dissappointment over the past year, I couldn't bear to watch them deal with one more thing that wasn't going to happen.

We waited to tell anyone. We told a handful of our closest friends.
I can tell you, that was really hard.

I get teary now even thinking about it. I feel so incredibly reverent in regards to this baby, that I don't even want to share the news with anyone. I feel so blessed, but at the same time, feel so much sorrow for so many of my close, close friends who are longing to add to their families, to adopt, or to become pregnant, that it is hard to understand why it is happening again for us.

Reverent.

So, here I am, just passed this huge milestone. I am coming up on 18 weeks of this pregnancy, measuring two weeks bigger. (As you can see in the photo...which was five weeks ago (HUGE). But thankful. So utterly thankful, I am finally allowing myself to feel it. Still scared out of my mind, still praying all goes well. But for now, over a hump. And so thankful for that.