Fear

I wake up every morning, and before I can even get out of bed I pray. I pray that this angel sticks. That this time we can bring this one home. And every morning I am filled with fear. Fear that I am not nauseous enough, fear that I did not have enough pregnancy signs. Fear. Many faces, many smells, but one gut wrenching feeling.

I look into my husbands eyes and see the same thing, fear, a fear so deep, so primal that I am afraid any more pain will just cause us to crack and fall apart at the seams. I pray that this time is different. I pray that this one works.

I sometimes do not know how to deal with the moments I am not busy, how to deal with the thoughts that creep in, like forever guessing if this angel has a HB yet. If this one is strong. If this time my body is just right. Counting down the days, the moments till the next milestone ultrasound. Checking every time I use the bathroom to see if the dreaded pink or red shows up.

I live in fear, like a cloud that tries to blanket out the sun. And yet I try to have hope, hope like the sun, but the fear of wanting something so badly that it just turns to dust in your hand makes me fear hoping. So how do you deal with the times when one wonders, hopes and prays that this angel, this baby somehow, some miracle makes it?

I see my husband smile at the thoughts of another child. I see him comment how he is a good dad, and really wishes he had more children. I do too.. Yet... I see how fragile he is and wonder, if this will be the last time he ever tries. If his next step in self preservation is a vasectomy.

Living with these emotions tears me apart. Having no control but being the vessel. Hoping and praying that this Angel comes to earth.