*****
I feel like I need a rain. A rain to wash things away, make things clean, and give me a fresh feeling.
I'd be lying if I said I was at ease right now. I'd be lying if said I was ready for our daughter to join our family. I'd by lying if I said I wasn't anxious and burdened.
Aside from all the other stressful things in my life --the moving across the country, the trying to get settled in, the break-in, the crazy hunt for a vehicle within out budget, the new church responsibility that was like a full-time job for a few weeks, the attempt to socialize and make new friends, the hosting of birthday parties, and then life in general with a toddler while pregnant -- aside from all that, there's another layer of stress that I haven't even let myself or had much time to dwell on.
The fact that my due date is exactly the same time as Luke's. The fact that my family is all going to be together for our annual boating trip without us because I'm pregnant, just like 2011, when I was pregnant with Luke. And now strangely, the fact that last time a grandparent passed away was when I was pregnant with Luke, and just this past weekend Trevor's last living grandparent passed away.
Thankfully my anxiety about this pregnancy hasn't been anything compared to the amount I felt when I was pregnant with Jeremy. Perhaps having a toddler to care for has kept me too preoccupied to worry about this baby . . . to dwell on the fact if she is still living or not when I haven't felt her move . . . to dwell on the fact that she might not make it. The questions do cross my mind, but the time and energy just isn't there to dwell on them. And perhaps I am just a bit more relaxed and confident that things will be okay. Having had one successful live birth has perhaps rebuilt my faith in the whole process of pregnancy and birth.
Nevertheless, inside of me is like a quiet storm of unsettled feelings. The strange parallels and timing of things. The concern of having a successful delivery ---meaning the outcome is a living child. It's like it's kind of just brewing inside of me.
Thinking about it doesn't really resolve it.
Even writing about it doesn't really resolve it. . . I don't know what else to say about it. The thoughts just aren't there.
But I feel it.
I feel it inside of me.
So a good rainstorm that will clear the haze, the clouds, and the gloomy feeling is what I need. A good strong rainstorm.
. . . if only the weather were in our own control.
