33 days. . . or less. . . left

And now comes the hard part -- the last weeks are tough for any pregnant woman, and I've seen several of my compatriots fall to the "term starts at 37 weeks" fallacy that leads them to believe that their discomfort and contractions will lead to a baby 3 weeks before their due date.

To be clear: for some, it will. For many, though, it'll simply lead to the idea that every moment they endure still pregnant past 37 weeks is agonizing. I know, I've been there. But it's the wrong mindset to be in, it really is. We are blessed to be here - ask any mother of a NICU baby, any mother of a child lost, any woman unable to have a child. We are blessed to be in those long, miserable last few weeks of pregnancy.

It's hard to remember, I know. I give myself a short pep talk and lecture each morning, because here's where I am today: I am in the last 5 weeks of what will most likely be my last pregnancy. This is likely the last time it'll be socially acceptable for me to walk around with a gigantically bulging belly peaking out from underneath my t-shirts. It's likely the last month I'll have to feel the bumpity bump of a baby on the inside. The last time to enjoy moments with my family of four before we become a family of five.

I cannot imagine wishing away these times - despite the sleeplessness, despite the physical difficulties, the breathlessness, the lumbering and clambering, despite it all, I cannot in any way, shape, or form wish this time away.

There is but one thing I could do without over these next 5 weeks: the crushing anxiety of pregnancy after loss. That is all. In the meantime, bring on the prodromal labor, the waddling, the reflux and heartburn and every agony of late pregnancy. I am lucky to be here and I refuse to allow myself to wish it away.

Aaaand now: What I've cast on

I can't tell you what I'm finished with because I suspect this is a long-term project. Please, oh please, don't let me lose interest!

Ater watching me knit for baby Elsa for the past :cough: 5 months, both kids have requested something of their own. I committed to making the Moderne Log Cabin blanket for Carter in Autumn Red, black, and gray Caron Simply Soft. Lilly requested that Star Blanket I made for Nana, Grandma A, and baby Elsa -- I'll make it a little bigger for Lilly so it has some staying power - and likely knit it in a Caron Simply Soft as well. It's a workhorse yarn but it lasts - and knits up smooshy if you can get over the fact that it's acrylic. And well, to be honest, if I'm going through the work to knit up blankets for my kids, they'd better be acrylic. :)

I'll start by saying this: I'm no artist

But I was hopeful that I could pull off just the teeniest art project for Ms. Elsa's room - some letters and a facsimile of this card:

And I like to think that I did OK. We'll see, I may go back in and add more flowers but I don't know. Because I used a lighter pink, the white dots for the chain link fence don't really show up as well and I'm not sure what to do about that, but it's decent. The plan now is not to frame them, but to paint the edges in the bright turquoise of the owl, cover the staples with a ribbon (and some hot glue), and be done.

We'll see. I'd like to simply get it up on the wall and move on to the curtains - because she *NEEDS* curtains, right?

Here are the letters I did for another wall:

I'll be purchasing a couple of smaller canvases and having the kiddos each do a painting too. The whole room will be a family affair. :)

I am the Face of 646.3, "Habitual Aborter"

A year ago on this night, I ground my teeth so hard I cracked a back molar in anticipation of my impending due date and the bittersweet birth of my sister's twins. They were born the next morning while I was in the dentist's chair learning that to crack a molar in that way required greater than 200 pounds per square inch of pressure. I wasn't feeling pressure - or even stress really. I was blessed to have a sister who handled me with a grace and empathy I only now understand. It was simply that looming date - October 19th - that was weighing on my heart and mind in ways I really couldn't fully understand or anticipate. 10/19/09 was the date we were to anticipate welcoming our third child into the world.

October 19th is the anniversary of Tim and I coming back into each other's lives, so it seemed an auspicious due date when I calculated it after staring at the shocking result of a "PREGNANT" blinking back at me on February 12th, 2009. We were not quite in the business of seeking another child yet, and *poof* one was on its way. After a few days to adjust, we were excited - delighted even. Our other surprise child, the first, had been nothing but a blessing unfolding herself in front of us for the previous 6 1/2 years, so why not anticipate a new journey of joy.

As many people are unfortunate enough to know, though, pregnancy doesn't always bloom in that way. Sometimes it unfolds into a terrifying series of moments and terms - the spotting, the dark blotch on the ultrasound screen where a flicker should be, the doctors and nurses unable to meet your eyes when they tell you "there's still a chance", the words "threatened abortion". I remember walking into our room at the ER and flashing back to the sights and sounds and smells of my stepfather's last days - whether we knew logically or not, I knew in my heart this baby would not be. Just as quickly as a third child appeared in our lives, it was erased. *poof*

We went on, over the course of the next 11 months, to lose a staggering three more pregnancies at different stages and for, presumably, different reasons. At one point, while watching the nurse take fourteen vials of blood to try to discover what was wrong with me, I remember feeling as though this was it - we were done, we had two uneventful pregnancies and births, we'd played out our luck, and we were quite blessed. My understanding of pregnancy and birth had gone from something that happened quite easily to the deep feeling that my children were lightning strikes - miracles of chance illuminating my life that might never be repeated.

Before we started this journey, I had a textbook understanding of pregnancy and infant loss - I have friends who have gone through losses - multiple, single, first, second, third trimester loss - even post-birth. I understood in my head what I could only glimpse from my heart. Even now, I feel quite certain that I have not suffered these losses as others among me have - coming home from the emergency room to two concerned children, to their hugs and their hearts thumping deep in their chests - it was a blessing.

Now, though, I have a deep understanding of my losses, of the subsequent journey of hope, desperation, reflection, and spiritual struggle of these past twenty months. I also sit here and feel the quiet thump of my daughter, now at 33 1/2 weeks gestation and I know that my love for her - and my other two children - has fundamentally changed in ways I could never anticipate. It is, in many ways deeper, stronger, perhaps even a bit more patient.

Tonight, to honor October 15th as Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness Day, I will light four candles - one for each of our potentials (to borrow a phrase from Joss Whedon, because I still personally struggle with the idea of angels) and I will hold in my heart all mothers - whether they went on to bear living children or not, whether their journey turned to one of live birth, adoption or a life without children- those mothers for whom "How many children do you have" is rocky and dangerous emotional territory. I am thinking of you - and grateful to have had your hands, your faith, and your hearts along this journey.

Coming Home Outfit

And another thing I haven't yet blogged -- baby girl's coming home outfit. Admittedly, it's much less rustic and far more beautiful than the red baby sweater (looking at a pic, it seems a hot mess. Hopefully a wash or two will make it. . . less of a hot mess?).

But back to this outfit - I made the Sweet Baby Cap, Yoda Sweater, and some mitts and boots - all with free patterns from Ravelry to go with Elsa's sweet embroidered Gap dress.