It is hard for me to believe that on Thursday I will be 8 months pregnant. 8 months. It seems crazy when 10 weeks ago it didn't even seem like I would make it to 7 months. And now I'm in the home stretch! I am obsessed with feeling our baby move. My favorite parts of the day are when she is squirming, swimming, and kicking me even when it's uncomfortable or makes me slightly nauseous (when she is right against my belly button and front it makes me want to throw up a little). If I don't feel her for several hours I break out the fetal doppler and take a listen. Hearing her heartbeat is the best sound in the world right now.
Even though we have had quite a few more ultrasounds than the average expecting couple (we estimate at weekly ultrasounds with a specialist since week 18 plus my regular ob care plus an ER visit plus a surgery Tricare has probably paid over $30k for this pregnancy so far--thank you taxpayers) I couldn't imagine NOT getting to see our baby girl weekly or biweekly. I am not sure how regular pregnant people go so long between ob appointments!
I think my biggest fear at this point, in addition to stillbirth, is something happening to me during labor. Having read about http://www.mattlogelin.com/ in a magazine...well, I can't imagine. His wife died in the days following the birth of their child. I don't want to be taken from my daughter. I want to be her mom. I want to be here to cuddle her as a baby, to watch her learn to walk, to grow as a toddler, and to become a teenager (okay, the teenager thing throws me because that means we'll be OLD). I want to carry her around in the Moby wrap (although I am loving the http://www.meitaibaby.com/ one right now, too). I want her to have siblings and can't wait to adopt a sibling group. Paul wants her to have a baby brother (I remind him that during this pregnancy is NOT the time to discuss future pregnancies). I want us all to retire together to our Christmas tree/pumpkin farm with a petting zoo in TN when Paul retires. I want a big ole log cabin or farm house for us to live in. I want to work part time as a therapist and embarrass Emma (and our future kids) and love on her and let her sleepovers and watch her play with the dogs. I want our friends to come visit and sit around the fire at night and drink wine and talk about how funny/awful/wonderful our kids are and the good ole days when we were kid free and crazy. I want Paul to build our kids a tree house and go on a cruise with my bestie and her fam and watch the kids swim and play in the ocean. I want to watch my parents are grandparents and my sister as an auntie. I want to raise kids who are confident and friendly and funny and loving and caring.
There is too much left that I have to do/that I want to do. So, God, just to put it out there...I'm not ready to leave yet. I know it's not my choice and it's Your plan, but if you could grant me this and let me realize all of the above (or at least work on it) I would really appreciate it. Thank you.
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