Loss for words...

It isn't often I am at a loss for words, but I find those moments have come to me a lot in the past 34 plus weeks (around the time I found out I was pregnant). Many times I've sat at the computer and waited for the words to come, but they don't. It isn't because my dreams aren't coming true, and it isn't because anything particularly devastating is happening in my life at present. But I have a hard time, I guess, processing what is happening in my life. What's even more difficult is trying to process the things that are about to happen. I'm 39 weeks pregnant, and my daughter could arrive any day now. My daughter. I'm about to become a mother. Justin will be a father. Our lives will never again be the same.

You may be wondering why this is so difficult for me to process. I can't even begin to explain all of the reasons. I can only begin by saying that I was never sure that being a mother was something that would be possible for me, be it biologically or otherwise. My disease has taken so many things from me, and I wasn't ever sure if motherhood would be one of them. Going back to this past summer, I was struggling so much health wise. My weight continued to drop and I was fearing the worst. We were honestly waiting for me to lose fertility, possibly permanently because I was down to an alarming 86 pounds. No one really seemed interested in doing anything to help me. I went to the Muscular Dystrophy clinic and saw a neurologist, only to get a diagnosis of "unspecified muscle disease (or myopathy)." The man laughed in my face, was ridiculously unprofessional and left me with less hope than I entered with. Just a few short days later, I found out I was pregnant.

From the beginning of my pregnancy, I constantly told myself not to hope. That may sound pessimistic, but I knew there was a real chance that this wasn't going to happen. I had to will myself to be as unattached to the idea of being a parent as possible. My body and my heart couldn't take much more, I already felt incredibly broken and raw. Another loss, another blow would send me over the edge, especially if I let it. Then the seventh week came along, and I began to bleed. It seemed as though the moment I was trying (in vain) to prepare myself for from the beginning was here: I was losing my baby. Justin and I decided to go into the Emergency Room, where I was diagnosed with a threatened miscarriage. The ultrasound showed a fetal heart beat, and no obvious issues, but we were told to prepare ourselves.

How do you prepare to lose a baby? Losing a child is undoubtedly one of the most excruciatingly painful things a person can go through. I don't know that losing a child to a miscarriage or stillbirth is any easier than losing a child you have given birth to and been able to hold, kiss, and take in. I only know my side of it, and let me tell you, I was at a loss of how to prepare to lose my baby. So we continued our lives, walking on eggshells. My Primary doctor ordered a Progesterone level. We would get the results the next day. The results came back and my level was dropping from its healthy level that was measured just two weeks prior. But my PCP had something that may help: Progesterone injections. We decided to start them, but I was also cautioned yet again not to get my hopes up. Justin and I prayed for a miracle. Eventually we made it to the eighth week, the ninth, and so on. As time went by, I was still terrified, even when I was reassured that things were looking even better than anticipated. I continued to be cautious about each and every step.

Throughout my pregnancy I had more than fifty intramuscular injections, several doctor appointments, ultrasounds, a few overnight hospital stays and an overwhelming amount of anxiety and fear. Looking back I wonder if I was really able to take everything in during my pregnancy. Everything about it scared the crap out of me if I'm being honest. Yes, I've always wanted to have children. I was hoping I would be able to have biological children and it was finally a reality. So why in the world was I having such a difficult time?! Why was fear and anxiety taking place of the overwhelming joy and happiness I was supposed to feel?

Much to my chagrin, I still don't have an answer to any of my questions. What I do know is that my daughter's arrival is coming soon. I don't have any idea how parenthood is going to be right now. The only thing I do know is that it isn't going to be easy. My hope and prayer is that I will be able to really enjoy my child and our family. I want to be able to take in everything. To memorize everything about her...the way she smells, every feature, every inch of her.

My doctor has told me repeatedly that she thought pregnancy would be healing for me. To be perfectly honest, I thought she was crazy. My illness is chronic and incurable. Surely she didn't mean that this pregnancy would bring physical healing in this earthly life. Over time I've realized that she was right, but it wasn't the type of healing either of us expected.

It's no secret I've dealt with intense grief as well as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder for years. My heart has been broken so many times in my 25 years of life. Living with a chronic illness hasn't helped matters at all. But through this experience, there has indeed been healing. I truly feel more secure in who I am as a person, more secure in my marriage, and overall just a little more at peace than I have been. By no means am I healed completely. However, progress has been made.

Baby Amelia is days away. I can not wait to meet my girl. God has blessed me greatly.