A Time to be Born

I am not sure who reads this; I know at least one person does as I received two lovely emails from someone who read an entry and could relate. 

In any case, I have not posted in a while and so I believe I ought to explain why. 

First off, I have been blessed with another pregnancy and am now 12 weeks along. Over the past 10 weeks I have been spending time finding the perfect midwives and looking for a decent OB. I have also had to fight my previous OB in order to have my thyroid tested and then treated. 

At the same time, my computer broke and is still in parts on my dining room table but, at least for now, it works. 

Last June, I began praying fervently about my infertility issue. In July, I was scheduled for an HSG. I began asking St. Rita for her intervention and also asking St. Pio for help because my faith was being challenged in a big way. I went to adoration and had an epiphany about Barbara belonging to God and decided to go to adoration as often as possible. I actually didn't try to become pregnant in June; I had sort of given up. I realized that it was all up to God and nothing I could do could change His will for me. All I could do was pray- and pray I did. 

I was shocked when I found out I was pregnant. I was happy, but shocked. 

I am so blessed. I know this but my happiness does not exist without fear and sadness... I am reminded of my loss in ways I never thought possible. Being pregnant brings it all back while, at the same time, reminding me that God gives as well as takes away. While I am so happy to be reminded that there are still blessings to be had and happy times to celebrate, I am also often frightened and sad. 

I think things that I never thought about before; morbid things like: should I get rid of all the baby clothes I so washed and lovingly folded and put away for Barbara or just get new ones? Should I sew a baptismal gown? If I do and the baby dies, I will feel sad that I have the gown but if I don't and the baby dies, I will also not have something nice to bury the baby in. You see, one thing I regret is not having a gown to have buried Barbara in. So, I decided to pick one out and sew it. 

What about the bassinet we bought to Barbara- should I get rid of it and get a new one or use it? After all, it was hers and she is gone. What if using it somehow makes the new baby die? Yes- this is superstitious but I can't help but think this way. 

Will the new baby only remind me of Barbara and make me sad? Will I have a hard time bonding with this baby because I will be so afraid of losing it? Will I be over- protective because I am afraid of losing it? 

The worst is that, now that my thyroid problem is being treated, I wonder if Barbara would have lived had I been treated while I was pregnant with her. Thinking that being treated would have changed things only makes me blame myself with a new sort of fervor. 

Then I have to wonder if Barbara thinks that I have forgotten about her or that she is replaceable. Of course, I know that she is with God and can't be sad but still, I wonder... I am afraid that I will forget her because I will be so happy when I am made a new mother again and forgetting her would be terrible. 

Dealing with the judgment and ignorance of other people has also made life difficult. A while back my cousin- operating our of sheer ignorance- begged me not to see a midwife for this baby. You see, someone within my family started a rumor that homebirth killed Barbara and, rather than bother to find out the truth, people have taken delight in propagating this rumor- which is sickening. 

I revel at the fact that I have been so blessed and then remind myself that there is no way of knowing how this will turn out. I could have a still- born or the baby could be born sick like Barbara. This baby could have a mental or physical issue and could have to go to the NICU. 

Then I think that, if something goes wrong, I want to be closer to another NICU so that I don't have to go back to the one where Barbara died... 

At the same time, I am reminded that there is a time for everything. There is a time to mourn and a time for joy; a time for birth and a time to die. 

On Labor Day, Barbara would have been turning one. She would have been eating her first cake with her hands and having a good time. She would probably be walking or almost walking. She might have even learned to say a word or two. She would have had a few teeth- at least one... 

On October 1, it will be a year since she is dead. This next month will be very hard. If I didn't have this new life growing inside of me, I might- in my human frailty- give in to despair. As it is, though, I can't. I have to eat, I have to sleep, I have to care for myself; there is no other option. 

I am not saying that I won't grieve; I will. I will cry a lot. I will feel very sad. I will feel angry. I will ask "why" and "what if"... But I will not be able to let it consume me or become me. I can't. 

I can't be all sad when, amidst the grief, I have something special going on that can't stop me from feeling happy. Even if the blessing is a double- edged sword... it is a blessing, none- the - less and who am I to question what the Lord has done? 

Again, I am shocked that I am pregnant to begin with... I thank God and St. Rita and St. Pio every day. I now constantly ask St. Rita for help because she is the patron saint of lost causes and I so often feel like a lost cause. 

This month will be very difficult for me- I ask for your prayers. I also ask that you bear with me when I do not post and/ or when I post and the post is very sad and graphic. I will not hide my thoughts and feelings because someday, somewhere someone who is hurting like I am may stumble upon this blog and be cheered by the fact that they are not alone and that someone else has been there and has felt that way and is getting through it. 

St. Rita- pray for us!