Tuesday's Little Flower

It was much the same as last time really, only a Tuesday, not a Thursday, which did feel more fitting, given I'm now forever linked to Tuesdays.

I'd had nothing else to think about for days, even weeks and months on end, I knew it was the day to test. Tuesday 24 March, 2009.

I hadn't slept much at all the night before. Tossed and turned all night. Much like last time as well. At 3am I was awake and at 3.44am I thought I'd had enough, but I tossed and turned some more.

At 4.47am, I'd really had enough, so I got up and took the damn test.

Pee on stick, pause, stare. Disbelief.

And like last time, I uttered the exact same words.

"Ahh Simon, it worked."

A positive pregnancy test, new life growing inside me again. Seven months on from the greatest loss imaginable and the greatest pain and sorrow I have ever known. A day during my darkest moments I thought I'd never get to. Finally, it happened. All of a sudden those long seven months seemed like no time at all. It seemed as if they had flashed by, without a moment for me to catch my breath. I couldn't believe I was back in that place all over again. I was so happy and relieved (and people say you need to relax in order to GET pregnant. I relaxed once I WAS pregnant).

Simon got up out of bed and took the test from my hand and wandered in to the bathroom. He flicked on the light, staring at the stupid, little plastic, pee soaked stick.

Confused by all the ovulation tests I'd taken for months on end, he was worried the test line was not as dark as the control line, but I explained to him with a pregnancy test, it did not matter. A line was a line. Boys are funny.

And what a line it was, there was no mistaking it. It was really there. And a week later I repeated the test getting the darkest line one could ever hope to see on a pregnancy test. The baby was still there, and with any luck growing nicely. I could still hardly believe it, but I was most definitely pregnant.

And almost six weeks later, I still am.

Tomorrow I will be 10 weeks pregnant with my second child, hence the large blog holiday I have taken. I needed not to share this news for a while. I needed time to get used to the idea myself. I'm still not used to it, but I felt the time was right to put it out there. There will only be so long I can hide it, especially to those who know me in real life as I don't think it is going to take long for this belly to pop.

I have felt sick, tired, irritable, hellishly nauseous, happy, god damn terrified, hormonal, crazy, cranky, sad, excited, fearful and worried all before noon on most days.

I have ok days then not so ok days. I'm not sure I've had any good days yet, as lets be honest, the first few weeks of pregnancy aren't great at the best of times. And I said I would not complain. So I am not complaining as such, its just been hard to get excited when I am so worried this is all going to go to shit again. Grief and the first trimester of pregnancy are one helluva combination.

I never thought a new pregnancy would be a cure-all. It hasn't been. I am happy beyond measure to be on this side of the fence again, but it does bring up a whole new set of issues to worry about, and probably blog about. It is all good though, as it is a road I am ready to navigate. So many have walked this road ahead of me, and I plan on learning as much as I can from those who have in the coming months. I never thought this would be easy, but I'm up for the challenge. I need to do this and I need to get it right.

Anything has to be better than where I was, and having new life, a new direction and a new focus is a huge start, dare I say it, regardless of how it ends.

I try and not get attached to this tiny little person but then I know that's impossible. And stupid. I am attached already. Of course I am. I mean this baby IS attached to me. I love it, and I am willing it to live. It lives now, at least I am still pretty sure it does. I saw it's heartbeat on an ultrasound just last week which was just the sweetest vision of my life. Of course I know how quickly things can change but right now, I am still pregnant and it was time to share good news for a change, rather than all the doom and gloom I have spread about here for months on end.

And on that ultrasound, it was almost the most terrifying experience of my life. It wasn't though of course; we all know what that was. But it was a Monday morning again, the same room, same ultrasound machine. Simon sitting in the same corner looking worried, before the Obstetrician invited him up to look at the screen with her. And she did not want to show me the screen at first. She wanted to wait until she'd seen "something" first. And let me say that was the longest ten seconds of my entire life. When she did turn that screen around and I could see that tiny heart fluttering away, I let out the biggest sigh of relief as I'd already composed the "we lost the baby" text messages and emails in my head sitting in that waiting room. I was so sure it was all going to come crashing down. Again.

Looking well in to the future, which I am almost too scared to do, this baby is due on 1 December. Which to me means, a November baby as I'm not sure I could mentally handle going to term again. And I know I certainly could not handle going past another due date. My mental cut off date is 39 weeks 6 days. If this baby hasn't decided to arrive by then, then I want someone to do whatever it takes to get him/her out! Birth plans have been thrown out the window this time around. The process is no longer important to me (or at least as important). It is just the end result that matters.

But I don't want to think about the end too much. As the end is where things went horribly wrong for me last time. I never for a second thought I would lose my darling little Hope. And at my worst moments, I can't for a second imagine actually bringing this baby home.

People say all the sickness and fatigue will all be worth it in the end WHEN I bring this baby home, but my gut instinct still tells me to say IF. It is all I know. Get pregnant, stay pregnant, baby dies, give birth, go home empty handed, the end. Sadly the switch for me has been flipped. I just have to try and flip it back this time around.

We have told quite a few people about this new baby. We told many on that first day we found out. Family and a small handful of close friends who have been so rock solid in their support of me, including some of my new amazing friends made right here in this community. And we told our other close friends after seeing the heartbeat last week. I was just too paralysed with fear to tell people any earlier than that. There are still so many to tell, but I feel like I don't want to tell anyone else. I can't celebrate this baby yet and get all over the top excited.. At least not outwardly. I have appreciated some of the excitement from others, but I am a long way from being there myself. I am trying to protect myself of course by remaining totally guarded about the whole thing. Just a coping mechanism I guess. Self preservation.

The word "congratulations" has also been hard for me, as I still don't feel I have much to be congratulated for. Clearly I am good at getting pregnant. I have done that twice pretty easily now. It is the having the baby part I need to be congratulated for. So I am hoping people can hold off on using that word until the right time comes.

Sadly most other people will probably find out about this baby via the grapevine. Or this blog if they read and I still don't know about it! I'm not going to be sending out texts or emails with ultrasound photos attached. There will be no baby shower or Facebook profile updates. And I'm not sure how I will react to any gift for the baby given to me before he/she is here safe, healthy and alive in my arms. This will all be very different to last time. But then why wouldn't it be, this is a very different baby. And that in itself is an exciting prospect. A new little person who will have a new and very special role in my life.

And with Mother's Day this Sunday, I am still going to be desperately sad. This new pregnancy doesn't change that. I still wish more than anything that my Hope was here. I find it futile to wish for both of my children as I know there is not a hope in hell that this baby would be here if Hope was. This baby comes to us as a result of a great tragedy. Never in our wildest dreams did we imagine we'd be trying to conceive again just seven months out from having our first. I wish Hope was here with me for this Sunday, and I am glad this little one is. It is all so incredibly bittersweet. At my worst moments, I wish I had Hope over this baby. But I know that is stupid as I most certainly can never get my Hope back, and there is every chance in the world I will get to bring this baby home and raise him or her. I guess any mother worries how they are going to make room for another child in their life. Will they have enough love to go around? I am doing exactly that, just on a whole new level. Something most "normal" mothers would never understand.

So in my belly grows a little flower. A little flower who I hope will bloom at the end of our spring.

A little flower who I already love so much. So completely.

A little flower with so much promise, and HOPE.

Will my little flower to grow, be safe, strong and healthy.

Will my little flower to live. Please?