May 5

Four years ago today, I gave birth for the first time.

I woke up in so much pain. My back was killing me, as it had been off and on for a month or two, but along with this came extreme cramps. Like the worst period ever. I barely made it to the bathroom, then the couch. I pleaded with husband (at the time) not to go to work that day. "Something's wrong," I said, "Something is definitely happening".
"Call me when you know," he said, and walked out the door.
So I lay there on the couch, trying to drink some water, trying to feel the baby move, trying to decide if the pain was letting up even a little bit to come back in waves, like contractions I had learned about. When none of these things were happening and I couldn't handle it anymore, I called my doctor. She had the day off - she was part of a maternity group and I was technically supposed to go to whoever was on call that day. But she told me to come in anyway and she would tell me if I should go to the hospital. So husband came home and took me to see her.
While he waited outside talking on his phone, Joan took me into her office and checked me over. After only a couple of minutes, she told me, "I can't find the heartbeat. I want you to go to the hospital right away. Do you have a way to get there?" We went outside to find husband, who had the decency to hang up the phone as he met my doctor for the first time. Her greeting words: "I can't find a heartbeat. Drive to the hospital as quickly as you can. Do not stop for anything."
By this time, I could feel the waves of the contractions. It was not a great car ride.
The hospital knew we were coming and rushed us in quickly. Within only a few minutes, someone had had a look at our baby and told us with absolute certainty that there was no life in there. I remember thinking, "Why aren't they just cutting me open? Why aren't they trying to get the baby out to save its life?" So I asked, "What now?"
"Now you go through labour and give birth."
You're kidding me.
They weren't.
I don't think they even bothered to ask if I wanted an epidural. They just arranged for it to happen. Not that I'm complaining. If I even felt a contraction, they kicked it up so that I was in no pain.
I don't know who they were. I couldn't have picked out a single face. I don't know which doctor was there to deliver my baby, even though there were only five in the group and I'm sure I've met them all by now. I know Joan (my doctor) made it there in time to help for the birth, even though it was her day off. I know I tore something awful, but couldn't even estimate how many stitches they put in. I know she was almost ten pounds, but I would have to guess an exact weight. They sent someone in to take pictures, which I will forever be grateful for, but it was extremely awkward. How do you pose with a dead baby? You can't very well smile.
Somehow they found me a private room, something else I will forever be grateful for. But all I wanted to do was go home.

All of this keeps running through my head, obviously, being May 5. Being the day that my first baby girl would have turned four. But it's running through my head a lot lately, in general. Because I'm kind of freaking out. Baby girl number 2 is due in just 6 weeks. All preparations have been made. And I'm excited. But each time I ooh and aah over some purchase I've made for her, I immediately think, "But why did I bother? I've just spent money on something she may never use." Every single day, at some point, I come to a realization that I haven't felt her move in what feels like ages, and I panic. I know, logically, that most of my day is spent caught up in watching Ben, running around, not having the time to just sit and feel for kicks, and most of them get missed. But even so, I don't think she's as busy as he was, and that scares me. I know, logically, that there's less space in there these days for her to move, and she won't be quite as busy. I also know, logically, how extremely slim the odds are that I would have a baby stillborn. But when you've been the odds, the numbers mean nothing. The fact that she moved an hour ago doesn't guarantee she'll move in another hour. One ultrasound may show that things are fine, but there's no reason that can't change by the next morning.

I know that I will get through it ok. I know I have amazing support in Matthew, no matter what may happen. I cannot even begin to express how grateful I am for that.

But I will be so extremely happy when this baby is born, the uncertainty of pregnancy is over, and I can actually watch her breathe. . .