The Fish Bowl

I would say I am trying to prepare my self, but that is not completely true. I think I am trying to prepare everyone - on some level. I find myself wondering how to do that and part of me realizes that part of this so called preparation for everyone else is in reality still probably for me. I am sad, but it really makes me sad when others are sad. I suppose bedrest has been somewhat of a gift - I have to deal with this. I found a blog from another family that lost there little guy to trisomy 18 at 28 weeks and I showed the pictures to my husband and he was surprised at how tiny he was. It is so hard to imagine him being so small partly because I am so big. When I lie down I can feel feet on one side of my hips and a head literally up under my chest. He is a lot like a fish inside a fish bowl and I am the tank. Kind of a strange analogy, but the girls understand this and it helps me prepare them for how tiny he really is. The ultrasound tech laughed when I asked her if there was more fluid. She said she did not even have to measure she could see all the space around him and assure us he had a lot of excess fluid. I keep trying to step out of my body and remember that Michael is dependent upon me, but he is a completely separate person and he has a purpose. I don't want to be consumed with so much grief that I lose that for myself and for others.

I have stretchy pains that literally take my breath away and yet, I know this is the time I have left with him. I know he is not suffering so I can not complain because that was my only wish. I am stuck in bed missing my most favorite time of the year but and Michael won't get to spend it with us which makes me very sad, I can't help that.