Waiting for a baby

How has this become my life?  How come I know such sadness of child birth before I know such joy?  Why did my first baby die?  Why can’t someone explain why they think this second pregnancy is different from my first and that the outcome will be different this time?  Why didn’t they pick up on the fact something was wrong last time if they can say that this pregnancy is so much different – it doesn’t feel different to me other than the bump being a little bigger which is common with a second pregnancy anyway.

I sit here waiting for my second baby to be born and I am so excited, I can’t wait to meet him.  But I hate that he comes in the wake of such sadness, that he already has so much expectation and waiting and yearning put upon him.  He already carries the burden of his parents need for him. 

I’m part of a coffee group (formed after I attended antenatal classes again as blogged about previously) so I have support when I have a newborn in my arms to care for as I have no family in the city where I live.  None of them know my history and now as their babies start to arrive I am so envious, I just really want my baby to arrive – soon!

I’m also not helping myself by watching a TV series called “One Born Every Minute” showing labour and birth at the Leeds Hospital in England.  Every episode I watch, I cry.  I can’t wait till it is my turn to be in that position, to be in labour pains with the imminent arrival of my son not too far away.  I am not afraid of that pain, I welcome it, I look forward to it because it means he will be here shortly.

But we are getting there.  I never thought I would get to full term but here I am.  Finally.   Maybe next week it will be my turn to have a warm, squirming baby placed on my chest, screaming and gawping at the world, ready to live and be loved.

Baby Boy in T minus…

So much has happened in the last month, but the biggest thing is that I am one month closer to having my baby boy.

How surreal that feels.  I look back on this pregnancy and while it feels like it has taken forever, it also feels like it has disappeared so quickly too!  It is technically 5 weeks till our due date, but hopefully less till we meet our baby.  And now they are dragging!

I’m ready, but I’m not ready.  I’ve been so focused on the pregnancy and getting to the end of it, I haven’t spent much time thinking about once the baby arrives, actually caring for and looking after a newborn.  Last time, with Amelia, I felt prepared and ready (as much as possible), this time I don’t feel ready at all.  I can’t comprehend it, a baby in my arms that is breathing.  I’m scared, what if I’m not ready for this at all, what if I’m no good at being a mum, what if I lack the natural ability and patience and care that is needed? 

I try to image the moment I am handed my baby and how great that will feel, but I just can’t believe it as a reality.  I try to image labour and birth when there is a baby’s heartbeat to focus on and worry about and how different it may be from my last labour and birth, the one where I already knew my daughter had died.  Will it be similar in any aspect, or will it be completely contrasted? 

I am starting to get more nervous about my babies movements too.  We’ve ramped up the monitoring from this week.  We don’t seem to do NST’s here in New Zealand (not sure what these involve but have seen a few BLM’s mention them) but we are going in for regular CTG (cardiotocography) monitoring that watches heart beat rates, movements and uterus contractions over a 20 minute period.  This has meant going back into the ward at the hospital where we found out Amelia had died and were then induced.  While its been more than a little hard at times I am glad that I have done this now rather than the first time going back being when we are induced in a few weeks with baby number 2.

Today I lied for the first time too.  A shopkeeper asked if this was our first baby.  A moment of hesitation and then “yes”, it was just easier at that moment rather than to have to explain when the next questions inevitably come.  But I’m still looking for an outfit that proudly declares “little brother” – something this new baby will always be!