to leave such a mark

remember how i talked about that liminal space between sleep & waking, where my crazy monkey brain is quieter, so it's easier to hear Truth? it was a hard dose of that yesterday morning when, as i was floating up through the layers of muzzy consciousness to awaken, i heard clearly: please don't stop loving your baby.
my eyes flew open and filled with tears: it's true, ever since the last ultrasound i've begun to detatch myself. i haven't been chatting with Tummymuffin like i usually do, i stopped looking at the daily pregnancy journal, and i've been building a cold and careful wall around my heart.
i know what the stakes are. with Isabela, i naively and blessedly had no fear of losing her, so my love for her never wavered. even though it made losing her so painful, it also made having her so real. i've known that struggling with love for this Tummymuffin might be a challenge, from the first moment i saw the pink double lines on my 99¢ pregs test. but i had no idea how easy it would be for me to go into You Might Get Hurt Again Begin Shut Down Process.
as i lay in bed, quiet, listening, i realised that i have two options if i continue to shut down: 1) Tummymuffin is just fine, and i will look back on this time of uncertainty with regret, because i lost out on those days with my child. 2) Tummymuffin may not be fine, and i will look back on this time of uncertainty with regret, because i lost out on the last days of being with my child. as is usually His nature, yet again, God is right: i need to stay engaged, present; yes, i need to love my baby.
if i had any doubts, the last few days of messages of encouragement and hope from you all have convinced me that i must remain open to giving -- and especially to receiving -- love. after all, this is what Bono (and I) sang a few nights ago: Only love, only love can leave such a mark/
But only love, only love can heal such a scar.

Week Eight - Confused

this post was going to be so many things. i was going to talk about coming full circle, about how i took my last work trip to Italy and lit two candles this time in the Basilica, one for Isabela and one for Tummymuffin. i was going to be amusing about the amount of gas i have and how i feel like a jet-propelled Muffin Oven sometimes. and i was going to more widely ask for the community's involvement and announce the news. and maybe at some point, i will.
but then we went for a second ultrasound -- the first one was scheduled too early due to a clerical error. and this one showed...irregularities. basically, Tummymuffin is too small and hard to find for an 8-week-old. so i have to have blood work done next week to find out what is going on. it could be as simple as another date miscalculation. but given what happened last time, it is hard to trust and be at peace; to reject the destructive worry and fear. i just have to wait and hope...and i've gotten a lot of practice with that over the last year.
i'm sorry this isn't more chipper but life isn't straightforward, and i've always tried to be honest in this space. so that's what's happening right now, and i hope to have better news with the next post. and then i can talk about all those other things, and maybe even tell you about the adventure of taking Tummymuffin to hear U2 play in Las Vegas.

Week Seven - Anticipation

part of me still can’t believe that i’m actually, finally typing a header that begins with the word “week.” yes, it’s true: after much learning, healing, hoping, praying, and of course, trying: we have another Tummymuffin.
i’ll give you (and me) a moment now.
hopefully, your moment was all rejoicing; mine mostly is too, but honestly, there’s a wide streak of anxiety too. i know this is completely normal no matter how many pregnancies and deliveries a woman’s had; every new one comes with its own batch of worries. but i’m not surprised that the pregnancy after a miscarriage has its own unique brand of apprehension, no matter how trusting or serene i try to be.
i’m not trying to put a damper on the (very genuine) excitement; it’s just that when i decided to continue this blog after losing Isabela in week 10, there didn’t seem to be any reason to sugarcoat anything. so in the same vein of forthrightness, i want to be honest about my feelings and thoughts. i wish i still had the same giddy innocence i did with the first pregnancy, but instead i find myself filling out a pregnancy journal with the clenched little fist of defiant hope, with marking a due date being now an act of faith.
when i told Thomas and we both held one another and alternately giggled and cried and laughed and freaked out and smiled, i told him that i was disappointed to not be “more excited.” luckily, because the fabulous Muffin Daddy is a surprisingly intuitive sort of guy, he correctly interpreted that i meant “more full of joyous wide-eyed wonder about a small life growing inside me but alas, i’m not so wide-eyed anymore.” he wisely pointed out that we need to let others’ joy and excitement feed and nourish our own, and that we should probably call our parents sooner than later.
i’ve wrestled with how and when to start announcing the news to people and i’ve come to the conclusion that no matter what happens, i need the support and love that i’ve experienced from this community. i absolutely am certain that i could not have made it through losing the last baby without you all; i am also certain that i may not make it through the experience of gaining this one without you either. or as a dear friend put it: the number of people knowing or not knowing isn’t going to control the outcome of this pregnancy…except as it pertains to the amount of support it provides. she’s right.
i guess that’s my request this week: i welcome your delight and happiness because i need it. it is too easy to let whispers of fear begin with this Tummymuffin, and i refuse to let the mind games get the better of us. i find that your pleasure in our good news has been a wave of encouragement that has made it easier for me to embrace this pregnancy as wholeheartedly as the last one.
so, welcome back if it’s been awhile since you’ve been reading this, or thanks for staying with me through all the twists and turns, if you’re one of the three people (i know there are more of you, but i get a little daunted if i think about that) following along this whole last year. my vision for this blog is the same as last time: to shamelessly ask for the knowledge and input of all you wise women who i’ve come to be so deeply grateful for. click here for the original entry giving instructions on leaving comments. also, please feel free to share the news/blog with any of our mutual friends; i know i’ll eventually get around to telling people, but i think it’ll be harder for me to drum up the same enthusiasm for sending mass e-mails out!
thanks in advance for doing this journey with me…again.