Believe

I had my 20w ultrasound yesterday and I’m relieved that it’s over. Even though everything has been going well I still get anxious before these appointments because I know the bottom could drop out at any moment. Luckily yesterday’s scan went well and our little girl (yes, I said girl) is happy and healthy!
This pregnancy is different than I thought it would be. I truly believed that I would be a basket case every moment of every day and that hasn’t been true. Not to say that I’m not worried and don’t think about things that could go wrong quite often, but with each day that passes I allow myself to breathe a little deeper and become a little more comfortable with this pregnancy. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing by allowing myself to become more relaxed, obviously the more I let myself believe the good things the further I have to fall if something bad happens. In a way it’s just easier to believe that everything is going to go wrong because then when something does happen I’m not surprised. With Emma, even after things had gone wrong from the very start, I don’t think I ever truly understood what could have happened. We were lucky, I know it was only luck, and now that we’re on the other side I can understand (though never truly understand) what could have happened. Even laying in the hospital for weeks on end never did I believe that we could end up with a preemie and months spent in the NICU – it just wasn’t something I could grasp. This time I can. This time I know every possible thing that could happen to us. And it makes me more prepared. I’m not naïve like I once was, it’s hard for me to see the glass as half full, but I’m trying. I know that no matter what happens this is my last pregnancy and it is my last chance to soak in the joys and pains of being a pregnant woman. I’m doing my best to believe that this really might go right this time. That we might be one of the lucky ones that brings our baby home with us just days after she’s born. I might be able to hold her close to me immediately after her birth instead of waiting until the next day. I might know what it’s like to experience labor with my husband by my side and watch him get to experience the birth first hand instead of through pictures. I might get to wake multiple times in the night to feed a baby, not an electric machine. I might know what it’s like to cry happy tears about a birth instead of just tears of sadness and regret. I might get a fat, full-term baby.
I know that we can handle it if life decides to throw us a curveball again, but that doesn’t mean we want to.