We are one week and four days away from our due date. Less than two weeks. Every day we still have her with us is literally a miracle at this point. She wasn't supposed to make it this long. They thought I would go into labor weeks ago for numerous reasons. But our baby girl is still strong and feisty, and is showing us more and more that she apparently inherited her Daddy's love for martial arts (which she practices constantly...and all night long). She wasn't supposed to move and kick as much as a normal baby would, but that doesn't stop her from moving so much at our appointments that the doctor has a hard time finding her heart beat because she won't stop thrashing around. She is our little miracle in so many ways...despite the fact that we have not gotten the miracle we so desperately wanted for her.
As we creep closer and closer to the due date, to the inevitable time when we shall meet her, the inevitable time that we will lose her, it becomes harder and harder to focus on daily life. Should I really still be working? Why should I have to pay bills, don't they know I have better things to be thinking about and worrying about? And emotions run much, much higher. Life is just scarier. Oh, and people say stupid and stupider things, the closer we get to the due date. I know in general that people lose their brains entirely when they see a pregnant person, and the suddenly think that there are no physical or emotional boundaries. It's like seeing a baby bump literally causes people to lose all common sense and verbal restraint. No, do not touch me without asking. Do not talk about my belly button. Why do you think it is appropriate to ask me if I am excited I'm so close to having my baby? How exactly do you expect someone, who you know is carrying a child with a terminal diagnosis, to respond to "are you excited?" And please stop using the word "pop." No pregnant woman in the history of the universe is a fan of the word "pop" in reference to what you think her body is about to do. Pointing out how large someone is getting? Would you do that to someone who isn't pregnant? Because the next time someone tells me I'm getting huge, I'm going to tell them "thanks, so are you!" And to the stranger in the rest stop who wished me a happy Mothers Day while I was obviously peeing, thank you for sentiment...but that was really weird. Maybe wait until you know the person has their pants back on before you strike up a conversation. For the sake of all pregnant women everywhere, people, please, please ask yourself if you would want to hear what you are about to say, before you say it. It will save me from having to hit a lot of people with my car... Those are a few of the more mild things people have said and done...I won't get in to the truly offensive things, such as someone who knows I won't be able to bring my baby home suggesting that I buy maternity clothes that will work for breastfeeding some day. Not everyone as been obtrusive and offensive. Many people have been so sweet, and truly bring a smile to my face even on the worst of days. If you are one of those people who constantly tells me how great I look, thank you, even if you are lying through your teeth. To the people who know to keep their mouth shut, and just give me a hug when they see me, thank you. To the people who ask me if there is anything we need, thank you. I wish I knew how to answer that question, but the fact that you asked means a lot. To the people who aren't afraid to ask me how I'm doing, thank you, even if I don't have it in me to tell you how I'm doing in that moment.
It's fun to get in my sarcastic mode, and talk about the ridiculous and offensive things people say, because humor can distract from reality. Distractions from reality are greatly welcomed lately. But alas reality is still there, our situation is still real, and some time in the very near future, no one will be telling me how huge I am, because I won't be pregnant anymore. No one will come up and touch my belly intrusively, because there won't be a bump. No one will be asking me offensively if I am excited, because I will have just experienced the greatest loss. That reality is very immanent...and creeping closer and closer, in a terrifying way.
Mother's Day. A day for celebrating Mothers. A day for Mothers to be recognized for everything they do for their children. Did you know that the Sunday before Mother's Day is Bereaved Mother's Day? A day dedicated to celebrating mothers who have experienced the loss of a child? I just learned that this year. I ignored Bereaved Mother's Day, because I have not experienced loss yet. I still have my precious little girl, even if it isn't for much longer. I have not lost her. I do not yet consider myself a bereaved mother. I was also planning on ignoring Mother's Day. It's hard to think of myself as a mom. I haven't held my child yet. I don't get to raise her. I don't get to rock her to sleep, or do any of the mother things with her from now until the day I die. I don't even know if I will be able to hold her while she is still alive. How exactly does someone in my position celebrate Mother's Day?
We celebrated by spending 7 hours in a car, driving back from Idaho. Best. Idea. Ever.
Really, you ask? Seven hours in a car, seven hours away from our hospital, in a different state, while being 38 weeks pregnant? Best idea, how? Let me tell you.
The weekend started out by us meeting for the first time, little Cole William, Ayden's cousin, who was born on Friday morning. We've been looking forward to that moment for nine months. Cole is so precious. And has apparently taken up snorting, which is the most adorable thing I've ever heard. I know Ayden is a proud cousin. And Nathan and I are the proudest Auntie and Uncle in the universe. We are so happy for my brother and sister in law. Best start to the weekend ever.
Saturday was the opening night for my little brother's play that he wrote, produced, and starred in, as his exit project for his BA in Fine Arts from the University of Idaho. I had gotten a text from my little brother, David, a few months ago, asking if it was okay if he wrote his production about Ayden. I obviously said yes, and that we would absolutely be there to see it. So at 38 weeks, we drove 7 hours to go see it. And yes, that was the best idea ever, for so many reasons. Aside from the small part where I'm 38 weeks pregnant and a super high risk for early labor, of course.
How do you write a play about a life that hasn't even experienced the outside world? A life that may not ever see the outside world? It was a play with no words. It was simple. Three people, the only props were string, a chair, a broken coat wrack, a few balls, and three balloons. And somehow, in one hour, my brother managed to tell a story of life's struggles, and incorporate the love of a child, and how life-shattering loss can be. You would have to see the play to have any idea of how powerful it was. The way it captured and conveyed emotion, had you laughing and then crying, and somehow found a way for everyone in the audience to relate to some large component of the story, was truly amazing. I'm still a little confused as to how he did it. Black magic is the only explanation. Just kidding. Maybe. But it was powerful, and it was beautiful, and there was not a dry eye in that theater. It was the most meaningful, beautiful way he could have chosen to honor his niece, and I am so grateful for his love for us and Ayden. It was a precious gift, one that will be cherished forever.
The morning after the play, Mother's Day, we went to breakfast, then began the drive home. It was mostly coincidence that all of these events fell on Mother's Day/Mother's Day weekend. As mentioned previously, I had fully intended on ignoring the fact that it was Mother's Day.
This weekend adventure was the last big thing on our bucket list of things to do with Ayden. We were killing two birds with one stone - a road trip, and seeing one of David's plays. It is a very sobering experience, sitting for seven hours, trying to process the fact that the last item's on your child's bucket list are being crossed off. To add the fact that it was Mother's Day made it even more...heart wrenching, horrific, and at moments, felt downright cruel.
Nathan and I are pro road-trippers. We rock at it. We have it down to, not a science, but a true art form. It's beautiful. We should probably write an manual on how to be awesome at road tripping, so others can enjoy road trips as much as us. We took this road trip as an opportunity to teach Ayden how to have the best road trips ever.
First, the snacks. You have to have good snacks. Lots of good snacks. Snacks that make you excited to eat.
Second, the music. Variety is key. Quantity is also key. You don't want to have to listen to your favorite twenty songs five hundred times.
Third, your partner road tripper(s). Obviously no one will be able to beat the perfect trifecta of Nathan, myself, and Ayden. But picking your travel buddies is important, and you have to find low-key, adventurous, low-maintenance, old-souls, who can find contentment anywhere.
On road trips, you have to be up for debate, ready to discuss life's deepest issues, while simultaneously be completely content sitting in absolute silence for hours. You also have to maintain a sense of humor in all circumstances (you never know what will go wrong), and be ready to create infinite inside jokes with your travel buddy. You have to have extreme patience (particularly when your buddy is....um....38 weeks pregnant....sorry Nathan). The driver has to be a good driver. The copilot has to know all the codes and rules of being a copilot. And you have to be able to switch roles at the drop of a hat. Hmm...now that I think about it, road trips are a lot like marriage. Nathan and I have taken a lot of road trips. Some have gone well. Some have gone everything but well. But we've always been able to, despite unforeseen and unfortunate circumstances, make the best of them. Kind of like in life. You roll with the punches, and just keep moving forward. And you have to remember to look out the window and enjoy the views around you, even if you are tired of where you are currently sitting.
There are a lot of parallels between life and road trips. You can learn so much, sitting in a car for hours on end. We taught Ayden a lot of things on this road trip.
I taught her that when Daddy wants string cheese, you make sure to open the wrapper before you give it to him. This prevents crashing when the wrapper won't open.
I taught her that when Daddy wants Gatorade, you open the bottle for him and hold the lid while he drinks. This allows one hand to remain on the steering wheel, also preventing crashing.
I taught her how to utilize 5000 pillows in order to maintain maximum levels of physical comfort.
I taught her how to beat Daddy at My Cows. My Cows? What is it? The world's best road trip game, obviously. The rules are simple. You want the most cows. When you see cows, you call "my cows," and you get as many of the cows as you can count. The person who has the most cows at the end of the trip wins. Here are the twists - if you see a church, call "my church" and all of your cows get married and double. If you see a McDonald's, call "my McDonald's" and you get to kill all of the other player's cows (just one player, if you are playing with multiple people). This rule is awesome, and equally soul crushing, depending on who sees McDonald's first. If you call "my cows" and there weren't cows, you get negative points (if there were five horses, not five cows, you lose five cows). If you have never played this game, I suggest you do. Ayden and I kick some serious butt at this game. By the time we got home, we had over 300 cows, and poor Dad only had 9. And technically, his weren't even real, because he cheated and called "my cows" for fake cows outside the Mattress Ranch. But we felt bad for him, since we had just killed all of his cows, so we let him have them.
Daddy taught her lots of things too.
He taught her how you should always hold Mom's hand when she is sad.
He taught her how to make sure mom keeps eating so she doesn't get super grumpy.
He taught her how to navigate in unknown territory, and how to not freak out when you miss a turn and have to reroute.
He taught her that detours on dirt roads are an adventure, not a reason to panic or get mad at mom for misreading the directions.
He taught her that it's okay to be sad, but that it's also okay to be happy, even when life is sad.
He taught her how to love her momma well.
Road trips are great for teaching. They are great for learning. They are great for processing, for being sad, and for being happy. This particular road trip was the most emotional road trip we've ever taken. But it was the most beautiful road trip that we've ever taken. We talked, we sat in silence, we ate, we listened to music, we got serious, we were light hearted. We took lots of breaks and walked around (something about blood clots are bad). We took pictures. We laughed a lot. We cried some. We taught Ayden the rules of the road trip, and I have no doubt that had circumstances been different, she would have superseded our road trip awesomeness someday.
I've been learning a lot about life and love these days. I wish there were easier ways to learn the lessons I'm learning. Less painful ways of learning would be preferred. But we are currently on a painful road. And despite how painful it is, it would not bring any honor to our situation, or to our daughter, to not try to learn as much as possible on this crazy journey. At this very moment, I'm learning a lot about receiving love, and receiving help. I'm learning about being honest, despite how much I want to hide from the truth. I'm learning about loving others, when all I want to do is hit them with my car. I'm learning about grace, and how undeserving I am of it, and how much of it we are given...and how important it is to give to others even though we don't feel like they deserve it. I'm learning about humility. I'm learning so many things. But the biggest thing I am constantly learning about is love, how deeply I am loved, how deeply Nathan and Ayden are loved, and how powerful love is. Love is truly the most powerful thing. I believe that, with everything within me. I believe the power of love is deep enough to heal the deepest of wounds. But that type of love, we are incapable of, on our own. God's love, for us, is powerful. And when we experience it, we are capable of showing love to others. Living in a place where we are so hurting we can't show love is a very painful place to live. We have to be willing to receive love before we can love others. We have to receive love even when we don't want it, even when it hurts. Friends, I hope you know how loved you are. Being loved is all we ever truly want, right? Let's focus on loving and being loved today.
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