Buzz kill

I really didn't know how else to title this post. One of the more upsetting things about this journey is how honest I am when I respond to people who congratulate me on my pregnancy. There are usually two ways I go about responding depending on who I am talking to.
If it is a complete stranger, I smile and say thank you. No issue there. I will most likely never see that person again and do not feel the need to fill them in on any details. But I am starting to see more familiar faces who I am not connected to through social media and they come up and rub my belly and congratulate me immediately and I feel that being honest and explaining our situation is the best for all involved. Today it happened and I could tell she wished she never brought it up. I said in my best "I am keeping it together" voice, "Thank you! We are so excited but we also know that she has a fatal defect and unfortunately won't live for very long. Still, we are loving and cherishing her every second we have her."

....

That usually makes me feel like a real buzz kill. But I do it to save myself from having to tell those same people after she is born and already gone. I don't know for certain, but I am guessing that after she is born I will be an emotional mess and I'd rather tell people now than when I am likely to explode from my hormones. Basically, I'm saving us all from my hormones... You're welcome.

I have pretty much mastered not crying every time I talk about it. It isn't that I don't want to cry, or that I feel ashamed of crying, it is that I don't want to be a mess. I do shed tears and honestly, they aren't all from being sad. Her life and this pregnancy are still very joyful for me. I don't feel burdened by our situation. I am learning so much from it. I am amazed at how strong my heart can be even under so much stress. I hope my children can take something away from this as well. I don't think anyone likes to suffer. I sure don't. But I am going to embrace it and take the things I learn from it and make something wonderful out of it.

Blank

Sometimes I catch myself staring at nothing for moments at a time, or deep in thought about the chaos that is my life. Sometimes I don't realize I am trapped in my own thoughts about the baby or the days after we have her and come home to face life without her physically in it. Sometimes I even forget I am pregnant (although briefly because have you seen this belly?) but I think that stems from not wanting to bum myself out. I asked a couple weeks ago via Facebook if it would be strange to still shop for my baby? I know she won't need many things but I plan to take thousands of photos and I am wondering if it would be therapeutic to purchase a few outfits. I also don't want to torture myself in the baby aisles of Target.

When we were trying for a baby, I eventually had to stop walking near the baby section because I figured it just wasn't going to happen for us. I know some people think it is terrible to wish for a certain gender but we wanted another girl so badly. Obviously we would have been overjoyed at either having a son or daughter. Now, even though I am actually carrying her, it feels like a cruel joke and I am taunted by the cute little outfits and visions of her meeting all of her first milestones. I dreamt of another little snuggly baby on my chest for so long and just when we finally felt like this was what we had been waiting for, we must face that she will leave us much too soon. To spare my sanity I choose to stay away from the baby section most of the time.

I know I am on my way to better days. This doesn't mean I wish she wasn't conceived because I am so happy to have this little life alive inside of me. It is just really difficult to enjoy and celebrate quite like I want to. It is an honor to give life and be a mother. Her little soul is safe with me and she is loved. I just wish I didn't feel like a blank page, never able to write the first word.

Imogen

We named our sweet little girl Imogen. She has already stolen many hearts and she has yet to take her first breath. Somehow, the days ahead seem more hopeful than bleak. I try to focus on the good this brings us and the amount of love people are pouring out and giving to us. We are being prayed for steadily and I have no doubt this is why I can get out of bed each morning. The reality of her diagnosis has set in and I am at peace with what lies before us. Yes, it still hurts. My heart is heavy. I feel a little tortured at times knowing several friends and acquaintances are carrying healthy babies and that our due dates are close. I am already preparing mentally for the thoughts I am sure to have when I see pictures of those healthy babies arriving safe and sound into their parent's loving arms. I will have good days and bad days and really, really, really terrible days. I will still laugh and find reasons to be joyful, even when I think about our sweet Imogen. I am still her mother and she is my daughter. She will always be our fourth child. She will always be a huge part of our lives and we will celebrate her life, even if it only lasts for a few moments.

Today, I am nearing my 22nd week of pregnancy. I am terrified about the labor. I have researched all of my birth plan options to deliver her safely. I will soon need to register at the hospital. Soon I will have to pack a hospital bag knowing that I probably won't need anything for my baby in it. I won't need a diaper bag. I won't need a car seat to bring my baby home. I won't need anything really but a nice long break from reality. If I have sleepless nights, it will be from longing to hold my baby. All of these things really sting. It is important for me to face these feelings. When you ask me how I am doing, I will say I am doing well, and I really am doing well. I have made peace with our circumstance and I am still going to cherish this pregnancy and this baby. But I know I don't have to be strong all of the time. It is okay to totally collapse and feel great sadness. I know and accept all of these things.

To help me along, I have started writing notes to Imogen. At some point, I will likely share these with you. I am starting a scrapbook for her and we are buying a keepsake box to hold our memories.
I'm not afraid of this journey because I know I'm not alone.