The night before, fear and terror showed up and attempted to take me over. But thanks to my faith and the faith of those that I called on to help me (thank you, Facebook, for quick and easy access to my friends and family in a mass communication kind of way), I fell asleep that night quickly and easily as those fears were... not lessened, not eased, but literally taken from me long enough that I could sleep the best sleep that I've had in days, weeks, months, possibly even years. 8 solid hours of sleep with no wakings, no int interruptions, just restful sleep. By morning I was a little ashamed of the way fear had overtaken me, and especially how QUICKLY it had overtaken me! I had been a little worried all week as Thursday was approaching. However, it wasn't until it was getting close to bedtime that pure terror hit me like a Mac truck straight on! Tears poured. And thanks to some great teaching in my life, my faith poured out, too. I prayed and prayed and prayed. And I asked for others to pray with me. And I felt those prayers.
Now, when I pray for this pregnancy, I've learned little things that guide me. I don't dare ask for any certain outcome. If I beg for something, but it's not right for me, but He gets so tired of me begging that He finally says "FINE!" - I tend to not be as pleased as I thought I would be. In this case, that seems like an odd thing to consider. It's a baby and it's a blessing. But, if keeping my baby means that someone else loses theirs, someone who can't handle it as well as I can, someone who loses faith because of it, someone who figuratively crawls into a dark cave with no intention of returning - what kind of selfish person am I to have begged for that to happen?! This is NOT to say that if I should lose this one, that I would be indifferent, or that I would cry my eyes out for several days, or cave myself for a few days. But because of my faith, I know that I will have another little blessing being stored up in heaven, waiting for me. I will miss him/her just as much as I do Taylor and Seth, or would miss any of the children than I enjoy in my home right now. I cry or get sad about T&S because I miss them. But I know I'll see them again. I'm not angry with God now, nor have I ever been. I may wonder momentarily why *I* was chosen for these experiences, but I don't blame Him or get angry at Him or curse Him or anything like that. I love Him and rely on Him to get me through it.
So, instead, I pray for comfort and strength. I pray that my emotions will be comforted, that I'll always remember that the best outcome will come about - no matter which direction that happens to be. I express my hopes that things would go the way that puts another baby in my arms and in my home rather than stored in my heart and in heaven, but I ask for comfort that all will be right either way. And I pray for strength in facing my fears - whether it be pushing my fears away as I live each day wondering the outcome, or strength in dealing with a reality of my fears, or perhaps strength in dealing with a reality of my hopes and dreams (yes, babies can wreck havoc on a mom, even if they do love and want them more than anything else in this world)!
I wish I had video of this little Picard/Vash, but I don't. The ultrasound in my midwife's office isn't the high tech kind that shows every little thing with amazingly cool clarity. It's about as powerful as a doppler is all. So while you can't see the flittering and fluttering of that sweet little heart, I got to watch it! Here are some stills of the baby that is not yet formed into a full identifiably human body:
GROW, BABY, GROW!!!