Today is the day. Today was going to be delivery day. The day we would get to hold our little baby boy, our fifth family member. Our rainbow baby. Everything was supposed to be right in the world today. But in the same breath, thats clearly not how today was supposed to go, because it didn’t. Instead, today is an entirely normal day. I’m 16 weeks pregnant instead of 39 weeks pregnant, and its with a different baby. An equally amazing baby, I’m sure, but still. This is not how I dreamed today would go.
This would’ve been our first experience trying to get a kid to school on a delivery day. We would’ve gotten up at our normal time for a school day – 7:15 – and immediately turned our phones on sound. We would’ve gotten the kids up for breakfast and rushed the morning routine a little. Jerilee would be awake and on standby. If today went anything like the last two times, we would’ve received our call between 8:00 and 8:30. We would’ve received our orders to come either in the morning or the afternoon. Brady would’ve probably taken Dekker to school while I loaded the last minute stuff into the hospital bag. Toothbrushes and paste, deodorant, laptop and chargers, etc. Everything else should’ve been packed by now. The car seat should be in the van. Though in this recreation, we would probably leave the van here with Jerilee and trade her out for her car, which would hold the car seat. Just in case she needed to take the kids somewhere while we were away.
Regardless of morning or afternoon, we’d let Jerilee know and she’s either head on over, or come maybe around lunch. And then we’d kiss our kids and would head off! We’d grab food and coffee on the way to the hospital so I could eat one last time before it all began, and we’d eat and talk about what was to come. We’d be super excited, and laugh at being old pros, I bet. We’d confirm baby names with each other, which would be totally unnecessary, because we would know by then. We’d make it to the hospital, park in the tiny fetal assessment lot, and go sit up in registration on the fourth floor among the strangely quiet couples. We are always the weird ones in the waiting area. We talk and make jokes and hold hands, and everyone else is so stoic and quiet. I find it funny 🙂 It would finally be our turn, and we’d be led to the room where we’d settle in for my induction. We’d chat with our nurse and do a quick recap of my history and why things are done the way they are for us. She’d give me a hospital gown to wear. Brady would take a corny belly picture of me in it. The monitors would go on, and I would ask that they keep the volume on a little, because I just never tire of hearing that heartbeat. Especially this time, after my loss of Theo. This was going to be our calm after the storm. Our reminder that I was still capable of having a baby. Our confidence booster. Our CELEBRATION.
Labour can’t be speculated, but it would’ve been worth the end result. I would be induced. It would quite possibly be a short and fairly uneventful labour, if its anything like the last two. And we’d finally have our baby just a few hours later. Another little boy to add to our beautiful brood of children.
I’m honestly now sure if we would’ve named the baby Jamin had he carried full term or not. We weren’t ready to have him when we did. Names weren’t chosen at 16.5 weeks. They shouldn’t have needed to be. We shouldn’t have had him at 16.5 weeks. We should’ve had him today, at 39 weeks. He should’ve been big and healthy and fuzzy and soft.
We would’ve spent the night at the hospital, and lamented a little bit that so many of the nurses that we are friends with are ALL on maternity leave themselves! But likely there would still be some familiar faces who I hope would poke their noses in and come say hi. I wouldn’t sleep that first night, thanks to the adrenaline, but it would be fine. I would be happy. And we’d go home the very next day, barring any unforeseen issues. This would all feel normal, and right.
Instead of this beautiful plan, we’ll do our day differently. Dekker has an eye appointment that Brady is taking him to. Laela and Rowan are playing toys on the island. Solly is crying at the couch under which he threw and effectively lost the toy he was playing with. I’m sipping coffee and trying not to move from the comfortable position I found. Its a normal day. Not a delivery day at all.
This is the big one, friends. This is a HARD day already. I felt strong enough to handle it until I stood up and got out of bed. Please, cover our family in prayer today, if you think of us. Pray for peace, and strength, and a new burst of hope when today’s heaviness has lifted a little. And PLEASE pray for Bambino ❤️
Praying and sending love!😚🙇💞
Thank you <3