The last two days have been a whirlwind. Food, friends, family, thankfulness. Then yesterday we hit Epcot. On principle, the mouse is not my thing. I'm not a fan of any kind of faux fabricated festivities. Especially when the entry fee for one person would pay for 6 days of my estrogen patches. Besides, I prefer authentic, 'sneak up on you' beauty found in everyday life. Regardless of the mouse, there was beauty to be found on the faux streets of the countries we visited. My sweet niece kept seeking me out, she's a snuggler, and she growing so fast. We had a big group, which meant a lot of different agendas, tons of waiting around, and wrangling of little people and handling of drunkish people. My niece would come up beside me when there was distance between us and everyone else and lean in. I talked with her about "enjoying the process" and how she will see days such as this very differently when she looks back on them from an adult place. I also told her it's ok to feel her feelings now, whatever they may be. I couldn't dig into that with her, but I so mean to in the future.
We are only two days away from some uncharted territory that could be a sort of graduation day for hubby and I. This ultrasound could actually be "normal" and could be the key that unlocks the door to many significant benchmarks along this road paved with hope.
So if I hear the words "normal heartbeat" I think I will really be able to let some light into the place in my heart where I've hidden the hope, behind that giant bolder. I actually feel fear at the thought of that hope taking over. If that happens, and I feel my heart flooded with actual possibility, I am terrified that my wall of protection allowing me to take each step forward will come tumbling down, and then I will not be able to navigate around the sharp edges of the rubble, I will stumble over every bit of debris. I feel like once I fall, once I am wounded again, once I bleed, once I feel the intensity of the pain that can come from losing my self in the hoping and believing, I feel that I will melt into something no one recognizes, something with no sturdiness, something without the strength to stand. I fear I will never be able to continue on this road.
So today, with this reality in my face, and this big moment coming in just a few wake-ups, I have to be brave. I have to let God into the painful places, let Him heal each wound, and let him guide me through the rubble. Maybe the light of the hope that I allow myself to feel will help me rise above the rubble, and glide over the sharp edges, and feel the happiness that my baby deserves?
There are many many weeks between Monday and the end of the first trimester. It will feel like an eternity. Lot's of time and space in between to feel my feelings...maybe completely freak out...maybe in between freak outs I will find little valleys of peace. Maybe these valleys will be free of rubble, maybe instead there will be flowers and little white butterflies, or tall grass and sunshine.
Symptom update: running a low grade fever...99.7. It is making me miss a very important dinner date, with a very important, very sweet friend. She insisted I skip it and rest. I love her. Fever could be a very normal thing according to the extremely reliable web info I read. Also, the nausea is not constant, but its there. Eating a snack that includes some sort of protein is helping. Today my snack of choice was peanut butter and grahm crackers. Yesterday it was those little foil wrapped Swiss cheese thingies with cheese its. We shall see what tomorrow brings.
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