I know I said previously that last week’s post would be my last pregnancy related blog post. But this morning I thought: “You know what? Today marks the day that I DID make it to 38 weeks and it deserves to be said. Even though it will be cut short in less than 24 hours. Hah!”
I’m extremely relieved to say that they scheduled me to check in at the hospital this evening instead of tomorrow morning. Hopefully he’ll be born some time tomorrow and not any day later because my anxiety is running high at the moment. Gert’s mom didn’t understand how I could deal with the fact that I know the exact moment labor will be started and how it scares her to death and that she’d rather not know and let nature take its course. I was like “Um, okay?” Try losing a perfect full term baby first and then see how you feel about it then. If we let nature take its course, I could end up 42 weeks pregnant and still have no baby … That’s another whole month!!! It would practically be August. He’s been full term for a week now and he already weighs more than 3 kilos, which is the average birth weight. Add another month to that and we’d have a giant. I would have lost my sanity by then for sure and there’s no telling whether this pregnancy would have ended well at that point. I can’t be thankful enough for the fact that this pregnancy – and any other future pregnancy – will be induced at the 38 week mark. I had a clear countdown to focus on and that helped me a ton.
Baby has grown so much in such little time. I have to say, it’s an additional reason for me to be relieved that labor will be induced now. The lack of space this baby has and the way he painfully tries to move around reminds me so much of Sam’s behavior during his last 2 weeks. Poor thing was clearly getting frustrated at the lack of space, and so is this one. I’m so worried now each time he tries to stretch to the limit or moves a bit harshly, as I fear this would damage the placenta he’s in; just like with Sam when that stupid little vein ruptured silently.
Sam has been so much on my mind lately. I kept thinking yesterday evening about those last few days he was alive and kept replaying every detail in my head over and over again. And how there was no clear warning sign, and how yet I feel like I failed him and how sorry I am that I wasn’t able to get him out in time. I must have cried a thousand times “sorry” while standing in front of his grave. The guilt and the sadness are bound to show their ugly faces again once I step into that delivery room, which will look exactly the same as it did 2 years ago. It’s going to be a very strange mix of emotions and I expect it’s not going to be easy to process. I don’t think anyone will really think about it that way when they hear that this baby arrived safely. They’ll just be happy and not think too much of how intricate and sad it still is for Gert and I. *sigh*
So that’s it as far as this pregnancy is concerned. Adios you shitty 9 months! I’m glad it’s over. And I can’t wait to meet our little guy. Fingers crossed that everything goes well!