Could it be the coin toss is in our favor?

I feel like I should apologize. So much has happened and I've neglected this blog. I talk to you often, but I don't sit and organize my thoughts the way I should. Plus, there's that beautiful kitchen...
If I had "before" pictures I'd share them, but that damn kitchen was so hideous I never bothered.

But so much more than that has happened. We had the next ultrasound, and found that your little brother is doing beautifully. Thus far, he seems to have all of his parts. Unless something goes terribly awry, or some other horrible unrelated thing pops up, we are past the point of having to make any heartbreaking choices.

This has changed things for me. For one thing, I've finally started to connect with your brother. And to worry about him. Though he's been kicking even more than you did, he's still small enough that he can hide, and I'll go hours without any little thumps and flutters. And my mind fills with terrible images of him floating limply inside me, gone cold and silent just when things seemed to be going so well.

Another thing I've had trouble with is his name. I usually think of him as Edward, and feel like he's a very different little boy than you were. But sometimes your name comes to mind first and then I feel guilty twice over--once for not spending as much time talking to or thinking about you, and again for not being able to give myself fully to your brother.

Its very confusing. I'm happy and I'm guilty and I'm nervous and I'm hopeful. Hopeful! Is it really even okay to say that? Can we really say that your brother undoubtedly has fingers and toes, even if we have to wait for him to get bigger to count them all and make sure they're in the right places? And he was a very good boy--he stretched out his hands and wiggled and squirmed and showed off.

I never know what to feel anymore but I seem to be feeling EVERYTHING. Often at once.

Not Looking

The first big ultrasound is today.

I feel completely outside myself today. Work was normal--I was my bright, cheery self. Got everything done that I needed to, and now that I'm home I am getting housework done. (Not at the moment, obviously, but I'll be back to it soon). And I feel like I'm just standing next to this bustling, smiley person.

I feel nothing. Barely even a stab. I can't even really think about it--it's like I get distracted and wander off inside my head.

This first look...we have no idea what we're dealing with yet. None. Daddy and I can't talk about it much. We both have been busy around the house, getting things done (sort of), and there's this vague feeling like we are battening down for a storm. Same kind of cheerful-but-nervous kind of undercurrent like when you pick up bottled water and some extra canned foods when there's a windstorm. (This might not make sense to people who haven't lived on the Oregon Coast, but trust me.) Every now and then I'll say (and it's always me) "if things go bad on Monday, we'll need..." such and such. I think Daddy doesn't like being reminded that things might go bad. He frowns every time.

And on top of it he's been sick all this week--he's at the doctor now. Just a cold that isn't leaving, but he wanted to get checked out in case it's Strep or something. Because we need that to worry about too...

Only a few hours left.

Optional Finger And Toe Expansion Pack

I'm feeling anxious about the new baby today. This is the week that it's fingers and toes should separate, assuming it has any. Next week we'll have another ultrasound--the first one where we play Lets Count The Bones.

I'm terrified.

I don't know why it's upsetting me right now. Especially since fingers and toes are actually the smallest part of our worries. Weird, to live in a world where we consider fingers and toes to be luxuries. Much worse if it's major bones or entire limbs missing. The pelvis. The risk of cleft palate (no one in the family has it, but it is associated with the general disorder). So very many bones that could get lost or stunted along the way...

And I've kept rough track of the baby's development--not like I did with you, though. With you, Daddy and I were excited to read every day what exactly we were growing. I never really spared a thought that something might not grow correctly for you. And as this new baby has gone through its early development, I've tried to...well, I never know what to call it. "Praying" is definitely the wrong word, and "meditating" is still off the mark. Well, whatever you call it, I've done it while the baby is (hopefully) growing arms and legs and all its major parts.

So why the little freak-out about the fingers and toes? Such tiny details...

Every now and then the relentlessly hopeful image of ten fingers and ten toes bounces through my consciousness. I never let it get far. I don't know if it feels like I'd jinx things or that I'd somehow be being ungrateful that thus far this has been a very healthy pregnancy (fetus-wise, that is. Been a bit rough on Mommy). Slaying that thought the instant it arises is the only way I feel "safer." In that hollow, whistling-in-the-graveyard pretend-control way.

I'd say to keep your fingers crossed, but I can't decide if that's heartrendingly optimistic or horrifically dark.