As I quietly approach the 17 week marker of pregnancy it's a tough one being asked the question, 'how are you feeling'? I'm anxious and excited, worried and delighted, happy and stressed. One emotion seems to cancel out the other in quick succession before they clatter by again. I'm missing Chris, he tends to be my anchor when every emotion inside my head is battling for pole position, but I'm well aware that what we're doing is absolutely 100% the right thing, so to not see him for another 3 weeks is just how it has to be.
Based on my pregnancy history it's the forthcoming weeks I'm fearful of. I lost Ella when she was 1 hour and 15 minutes shy of 26 weeks and I know it's the thought of reaching that window of time again that unnerves me - will I wish the time away, or face it head on? Will my body continue to keep this ever growing, precious baby safe and warm and free of infection and horror? It let me down a second time last April when I miscarried at 10.5 weeks, but having had a procedure carried out on my cervix on Friday to stitch everything snugly up, I'm gradually starting to feel more hopeful.
We knew if we ever found ourselves in the privileged position of expecting a baby again I'd crawl up storm clad mountains to make sure everything possible was done to prevent loosing him or her. As it stands right now I'm trying my damnedest to keep that promise come hell or high water and that courage has come from loosing someone so precious that her story deserves to be told. To go back to the beginning, to unravel the knots of the past and to lie it out straight brings us gently into the present. It's Ella's story and I'll try and put it down on paper soon.
But in the meantime, when it rains like only it can on English soil, when it's dark outside and when my heart heaves close to my chest I'd give anything for a huge hug with my grizzly bear, diesel smelling husband - why on nights like tonight is Africa so far away......
I'm balancing on my toes and reaching for the moon, I'll meet you there.
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