I hope

I had contractions the other night. They were irregular so I went to sleep. Sometimes exhaustion brings them on. I had more on my way into work the next morning and all day at work. I made the call to go to the hospital to be checked just in case. After an overnight stay and more testing, the doctors have since decided I have a dynamic cervix which is a cervix that changes with pressure applied. I've been ordered for bed rest. No more work. I have to be careful and hope I can keep the baby healthy until it's time. I hope my body doesn't sabotage this baby.  

An overnight stay in the hospital where we had found out that Gabbie was gone was,... Overwhelming to say the least. 

I listened to babies cry in the night. I walked the halls where we never held her. Nurses recalled our name and said how sorry they were then for the loss we suffered. The girl in Dietary taking my order was named Gabbie. No lie. Seriously. My heart skipped a hard beat when she sweetly asked for my order calling me by name. Sometimes before I go to sleep I hear a voice that calls me "mama" just before I hit dream land. It is neither S nor G. I hope it's Gabbie and not my imagination. 

I don't know if I want to deliver at that hospital again. The pinched look on Derek's face when they looked for this baby's heartbeat was enough to know I wasn't alone. I didn't imagine or create the anxiety. I could only hold my breath and pray her heartbeat was there. 

A message on my FB wall talked about not wishing the nine months away. I have to say that although the anticipation of this baby coming is powerful and I need to know if she will be ok, there is not a single stitch of my soul wishing for it to be over. I know that it may be the only time I get with her. It breaks my heart to think that today's kicks and bumps may at anytime be the last ones I feel. I can only hope it isn't. I dont wish for hours to pass I only hope for one more kick from this miracle I'm helping God to make inside of me. 

I had a nightmare last night. Derek, the girls and I were living in a house with a detached garage. We were getting ready to leave, the girls were loaded in, the car was loaded and running in the open garage. Derek and I were talking just on the side of the garage when we heard a loud crack.  Before we knew it, the car had somehow drove or rolled through the back wall of the garage and down into the house's yard behind us. We ran, but the hill was so big and it all happened so fast, and I was slower because of pregnancy, and before we could catch it, with my girls still inside, it hit the other house's garage and exploded. Derek turned and caught me and held me back from running to it as I was screaming for my girls and fighting against him. All I could do was scream, "no, no, no!" That's when I woke up with his arms around me trying to wake me an him kissing my sleeping face. He is my barrier against the fear and darkness. He tries to tell me how unrealistic they are, how fictional, and just a dream. I know this is true. But my greatest fear, just like with Gabbie, is my inability to stop disaster, to stop my girls from coming to harm, to be helpless. I hope each day is uneventful. 

I've been reading the Blue4Ben blog. I feel sadness to my core for that mom. I didn't watch my baby die in front of me. I didn't have 4 years with my Gabbie to see slowly slipping away. But I do know what it means to pray for a miracle with all your soul and beg to switch places so that the baby you grew inside you could keep growing. I do know the feeling of helplessness. I hope they get their miracle. From one mom holding onto hope to another, I hope God gives the miracle you pray for.