Mobile Moments, 1/13-1/19

Another week has passed in a month that- thus far- has been largely marked by near-constant worrying and waiting. Now that I at least have answers to the major questions that haunted me through Christmas, the days seem to have gotten both harder and easier at the same time. I'm feeling torn about the time that I still have left to go before the procedure that will finally begin put an end to the physical concerns (not that my attitude towards it would change the reality in any way). On the one hand, it means more days before I can even approach some closure, and an increased risk of beginning to miscarry on my own, but on the other- I have more time to come to terms with a surgery that I still feel quite ambivalent about, and more time collect further information that will hopefully counter the lingering doubts I have about whether I can safely proceed without future regrets.

In the meantime, whether the particular day has felt quasi-impossible or highly manageable, it's the nights that have really been tough. Somehow, when the screens are shut off, the lights dimmed, and the background noise quieted, whatever courage held me steadfast up to that point crumbles away, and I'm forced to let emotion carry me away for a time. In the midst of it I always feel a sense of strangeness and distance, since it seems that these moments of despair must be mere precursors to the grief that will surely fall down hard upon me once the pregnancy comes to an end at last.

I was blessedly spared from the pattern last night, as Tom and I rolled wearily into our bed at the end of a magical day that was somehow blessedly sandwiched between all of the recent anxiety and pain. There was so much about Michael's birthday to be happy and thankful for that I didn't even have a moment to regret the fact that my little guy, like his big sister before him, is charging non-stop towards little boyhood and away from the babyhood that I've been desperately trying to retain since the very moment of his birth.

I'm hoping that, beyond the respite from grief that our one carefree day provided us, it will further buoy us up as we steel ourselves for what promises to be one of the toughest weeks yet. At the very least, it will prove physically challenging as I attempt to overcome epic levels of exhaustion to drag myself out to the three appointments I'm due for (for pre-op, ultrasound, and outpatient surgery respectively), as well as the combined one for Michael and Amelia to cover their two-year and nine-month health assessments.

When it's all over, I'll be back here again, hopefully with a freer, albeit somewhat heartbroken, soul and a report of all of the lovely and interesting things that managed to happen as we each tried our best to simply push on through.

Caution: Babies at Work

Mia the baby genius: Protecting her baby brainwaves from little green men.

Look who's ready to join in for the pre-bedtime story.

Abby's first stick figure drawing.

"Hold one moment please, while I connect you."

He's more than ready for a "big boy" bed, but am I?

Overheard this week:

Between Mia, Tom, and Abby

M: {burp}

T:  "Oh! She should say 'excuse me.'" To Abby, "Should Amelia say, 'excuse me'?"
A: "She should at least say 'excuse me' when she's growing up to be a grown-up."

Michael

"That's a puppy!"

Mia

{nom nom} She's going through purees at the rate of at least 12 ounces a day now. If only all that extra food actually had some effect on her current sleep schedule, which continues to require a stubborn 2-3 feedings a night to keep the peace...