Battle Scars

So, if anyone was wondering where I have been, I went to Las Vegas for a few days with my sisters.  The trip was supposed to be my last hoorah with alcohol and caffeine, as we are now actively trying to conceive again.  It was a great time, but it made me very aware of my body....let me explain.

Both my sisters have my mother's genetic makeup, so they have tiny hips and are built pretty tiny build in general.  They are also so short...and then there is me.  I don't think I am gargantuan by any means, but all the pictures next to them, made me a little self-conscious.   So, one night in the shower, I looked down at my own body, and instead of noticing my big hips and thighs, I noticed my battle scars. 

I have two tiny stretch marks from my pregnancy with Gabriel...just to the right of my belly button.

I have my CVS scar from when they wanted to know what was wrong with him, and its located about three fingers down from my belly button.

I have my surgical scar, a small horizontal one, from my second pregnancy, located above my pelvis. 

I have a small scar from my laparascopy, from my second pregnancy, in my belly button.

I have a hole in my heart, located in the center, from both of my pregnancies.

With March coming up, who knows how I will act, or how I will be.  Right now, I feel okay.  I am trying to live like we are conceiving for the first time..not that I can ever forget about my sweet son...but I am trying...who knows, that may go out the window, depending on how long it takes me to have a successful pregnancy.  I keep thinking that if I found out I was pregnant in March, then it would be like Gabriel helping me along somehow..but I don't want to get my hopes up.

March 11th will be the hardest.  That was the first due date.  That is the day that my insides will no longer ache, but my arms will start to.  I am going to try my hardest to get through that day not lying in bed. 

I am just trying to get through...

Resist the Urge

I am grappling with a lot of different feelings lately. 

Each day that passes in February is one day closer to March 11, Gabriel's original due date. 

Each day, I have these thoughts, about, how big I should be, or what the nursery would have looked like, how my baby showers would have went.  Every stressful day at work reminds me that if things would have gone according to my plan, I would only have 2 weeks left before taking a leave of absence for the rest of the school year.

according to my plan.

I originally titled this blog: my new life plan.  Even after Gabriel went to Heaven, I was willing to accept that I didn't have control and to let life happen to me.  But thats when I thought I would be pregnant within a couple of months of my son's death.  When I did fall pregnant again, it was ectopic, another rarity, and although I got to keep my fallopian tube, I am now saddled with a whole new set of worries, which fall like boulder size weights on my shoulders.  Now, I not only have to worry about the health and development of a baby, but that the egg will actually get to where it needs to go.

I am trying to resist the urge to panic for that control.  See, Josh and I have the okay to try again, and although this month is probably a bust ( I am out of town during the time I typically conceive...another fact that I hate knowing considering I have no baby to show for it) we have decided to start over, and treat this new possibility of a baby like we did way back in June, when we were trying for the first time.  "Whatever happens, happens" type of attitude.  Well, then we start talking about how really, a holiday baby would be rather cool!  If the baby is born in November, Josh can dress him/her up in Michigan football gear and Broncos gear and that would be so much fun!  Or, how cool would a December baby be, we can have the baby and my dad be the Christmas babies!  We could have joint parties and really truly celebrate the blessings of the season. 

As Josh and I were talking about this, my heart started to race...I felt the need to control the situation...okay, so if we are going to make this holiday baby thing happen, then we only have February and March..what if it doesn't happen, what if it does and I miscarry again..what if, what if, what if....

And then I shut down.  I stop answering my phones, and I stop caring.  I get sad, depressed, and most of all, angry and frustrated.  I wish I had a crystal ball, to look into and just know that things were going to be okay.

And I think of Gabriel, every second that I am awake.  And I wonder what he would of looked like, how big he would have been inside of me...how labor would have been in normal circumstances.  I feel this need to honor him, and I don't know how.  Josh is going out of his mind, wanting to know if they buried him yet (the hospital does the burying of babies his gestational age quarterly) and he says that when he is buried, that is enough for him.  Me, I don't need to know that he is buried...I just want to honor him somehow.  I just don't know what to do.  I thought about getting his memory box down, or even going in that room (which by the way, has been closed off.  I can't go in there)  but I can't.  I open the closet and see those baby clothes and I can't go in there. 

How can I openly mourn my son?  I don't even know how to make my blogspot look like other moms' sites.  I don't want a funeral or memorial service...but especially in March, how can I remember him without being so angry that he is not here? 

I would have been a great mom.  Can I still call myself a mom when my baby is in Heaven?

Someday, I will hold a baby in my arms, and know that all of this pain, was worth it.  As someone so eloquently put it to me, "yes, it would be terrible if this happens again, but it won't it be WONDERFUL when it doesn't? 

I am just so worried that the wonderful will never come.  And if I am worrying so much, then I am not resisting the urge for that control.  I have failed...again.