Dr Jekyll / Mr. Hyde

I told Paul recently that I feel like I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. That either I will go into preterm labor, or it will be a dramatic delivery, or that there will be something wrong with Summer. When he asked why, I explained that it doesn’t make sense to go through all of this drama – which has actually only been theoretical - without an actual dramatic result. If I had never had an ultrasound, never knew about the twins, never heard about TRAP, or the possible complications…the outcome would be the same. I would still go on to deliver whenever I deliver and have the baby that I’m going to have. So what is the point of the last 6 months?

I have been trying to figure this out. Trying to reconcile the ‘why’ of it all. Is it just to add some flavor to my life? Was it to start a blog and connect with other who have been through something similar? Is is just because that’s life and life happens?

It’s like I am being torn in 2 different directions. What I know is not reconciling with what I feel. It’s the same division of heartstrings that were being pulled before- half of them excited to see Summer and half of them sad to lose Cayden.

Today’s appointment was great. I saw Summer, she is doing great – even saw her face in the 3D ultrasound (which, truth be told, are kind of freaky looking). The fluid pocket on her brain has disappeared. Her arm and leg bones are measuring perfectly. Her little hands are opening and closing and she was already sucking her thumb. She even had the hiccoughs – I had been wondering how she can kick me so frequently! Now I know why!

So the angel on one shoulder tells me to feel so thankful. I dodged a bullet! The drama is over! The fear and anxiety is relieved. I am now in my 3rd trimester and everything is looking good for the next few months! Great! But there is a nagging voice on my other shoulder…

Why do I feel so…hesitant? Why can I not accept the good news and forget about the last several months? Why did I ask the technician to show me baby b? And when she couldn’t find her, why did that make me sad? Like something was over? And then when she finally did find her, why did my eyes fill with tears that I quickly wiped away before anyone saw them?

It’s because…I don’t get it. I still don’t get it. What was the point? Why go through all of that for nothing? Of course it’s great that it is nothing but…I still don’t get it. I don’t understand the purpose. And of course I feel terrible for feeling that way since it makes me feel like I’m ungrateful for the good news. Which of course I’m not! I just feel like this journey was preparing us for something…for the procedure I didn’t have, or the burial we won’t have, or the preterm baby that we won’t have (hopefully). Again, I’m thankful that we won’t have these things, that has been the prayer the whole time, but I feel like I’ve been preparing…but for what?

It’s just a weird feeling. Like standing at the edge of a cliff with all the adrenalin rushing through you, ready to take the jump because you have a parachute and you are ready, but when you look down you realize… you are on flat land. There is no cliff. Phew… right? But what do you do with that adrenalin? With all the preparations you have made? I guess you try to figure out the lessons to learn….and I just don’t know what that is yet.

So I ask you, what do you think the point is?

What is the point of so much drama, fear, anxiety, sleepless nights, cumbersome prayers if everything was going to turn out ok anyways? (I feel bad even writing those words – like I am totally unappreciative but…)

Is there a point? A purpose?

Is it preparation for something that I might deal with in the future? A way to help others who have gone through it? Simply one of lifes events that I can choose to grow closer to God through?

Or is it that just life; bad things happen and hopefully, by God’s grace, you can dodge some of the tragedy – is that just the way it is?

I’m not asking why we lost Cayden. I can accept that. I’m just trying to navigate through the purpose of the journey.