Life in our house has been a little crazy.
My husband works full-time as a roofer (5 days a week, between 8 and 10 hours a day). He also goes to school part-time. This fall he started his first semester of nursing, which means that he is in school two nights a week (Monday and Thursday this semester) and every other weekend (which includes Friday night, all day Saturday, and most of the day Sunday). While this is his first year in nursing it is not his first year in school. He was born and raised Amish and the rest of his family is still Amish, so when we decided that going back to school was something he should do, he had to start at the very beginning. He got his GED the year Carson was born and has been and still is working hard to maintain good grades (much better then mine were in college!) and to get to where he is now (Yes, I am extremely proud of him!!!!!)
All of that to say that while he is very busy providing for our family and learning all kinds of cool stuff, it also makes my life a little crazy.
Both boys are in school, Cole goes to AM kindergarten, which means that I go pick him up everyday at 11:30. Carson goes to PM preschool every Tuesday and Thursday, which means I drop him off at 12:15 (I pack him a lunch before we leave to get Cole and he eats it in the car since Cole’s school is on the way to Carson’s school and we don’t have time to go back home to eat first) and pick him up at 2:30. Both boys also played soccer this year, Cole every Saturday morning and Carson every Thursday night. Add in prenatal appointments, ultrasounds (I volunteered to go to the nursing school to let the ultrasound tech students practice), trying to keep the house clean, and trying to have some kind of fun outside of school and driving around all the time, and we are just very busy.
In a way this craziness has been good. I don’t have tons of time to sit around and worry about being pregnant again. To really think about it.
But when I do have time to think, I get panicked. If I could just fast forward the next 11 weeks and 2 days that would be great. I want to have my baby here, healthy, happy, but most of all alive! The crazy thing is the times when I get most panicked are times when I should feel more relaxed, like while the baby is kicking me! I always worry that it was the last time I will feel him kick so I beg him to kick again just so I know he is ok, and then he kicks again and I beg for more.
The doctor appointments that should help me feel less anxiety make me feel worse. I panic before I get there that they won’t hear a heartbeat (even if I feel him happily moving around), I panic while I’m there that something will be wrong (they really should check my blood pressure after they have found a heartbeat instead of before), and I panic when I leave that something really is wrong they just didn’t tell me or that something changed in the few hours since I left the office.
Every time leave the office I think to myself, “I cannot do this again. I cannot lose another child. I can’t go through it again. It would completely destroy me.” But then I also think that before we lost Cohen I thought those same thoughts about losing one child.
Overall though I think this pregnancy has been better than I thought it would be. While there are moments of panic and times where I feel like I can’t breathe or go on any longer, it has not consumed me. I am able to move through those times and be able to take care of Cole and Carson. Able to function throughout the day. It has started to get harder though. The further along I get with this pregnancy the more often the times of panic come and I expect it to get worse before it gets better (although I could be wrong). I dread being 38 weeks pregnant. I am hoping that I will have him early at like 36 weeks but am not counting on it since none of my other babies were born that early.
It has gotten harder to watch Cole and Carson play together. I love seeing them laugh and be goofy but my heart aches because their brother isn’t there. Their brother who would be old enough now to enjoy the leaves, old enough to join in the wrestling matches, old enough to chase around, and yes, also old enough to destroy their precious Lego creations, chew on their favorite toys, and walk all over their game of Sorry.
I know it wouldn’t be perfect and the life would be even crazier but it still hurts. I still miss my son. I cringe whenever I hear myself say things like, “Will you two boys please act like you love each other so I can get one nice picture,” because it still doesn’t seem right to be saying two instead of three.
Cole has been doing very good at school. He loves learning and he actually really likes to go to school.
But Cole has been struggling at home. For over two weeks he cried himself to sleep because he missed Cohen. He is nervous and scared that this baby isn’t going to live either and honestly I don’t know how to reassure him when I have those same feelings. I can’t tell him it’s not going to happen again because I don’t know that. I can’t tell him that this time he will get to bring his brother home and help take care of him because I don’t know if he will. I’m not going to lie to him. I’m not going to tell him everything is going to be fine. Because I don’t know and I’m scared of the same things.
My cousin and his wife (who I love and is a good friend) just had an adorable baby girl. One of the first things Cole said when I told him that they had their baby was, “Is it alive?” When I told him that she was alive he asked, “Well can’t we just bring her home with us?” He then told several people that our cousin’s had a baby and it was alive. It hurt this mommy’s heart to hear him say that. That the first thing he thinks of with new babies is whether they are alive or not and that he felt the need to make sure other people knew that this baby was alive. Because to him, in his short life, it is not normal to have a baby that is alive. Yes he has Carson but he doesn’t remember anything about his birth or him being a baby.
Life has been crazy. And it’s about to get crazier, with the holiday’s coming up and hopefully bringing a new baby home! But even with as crazy as everything is it is never far from my mind that life should be even more crazy. There should be a 17 and half month old running around to add to the craziness and to the joy of our family.