Almost to the end.

Hoping for a Hail Mary.

Writers Block.

…I don’t know what to say. Shocking, I know! I’ve tried to journal. I’ve tried to brainstorm how to put together my thoughts into sentences so that they make some sort of sense. I get nothing.

Our induction has been scheduled. I thought I had time. I thought I had so much more time. I have 2.5 weeks and then it’s over. The hardest part for me to prepare for is no longer having him. It’s been me and him 24/7 for the past 29 weeks. You’ve been an active baby since the beginning. I was told by other pregnant mommas that they’re usually still during the day. Not you! I think that’ll be the saddest part is no longer feeling you move. Your little punches. When you move your whole torso. It freaks me out and gives me heebie jeebies to see your little booty sticking out.

I wish I was cramming to have your room done. Making sure I had enough supplies. But instead while your room is “done” it’s missing so much. No crib. No changing table. You have clothes but I feel like you would have had a closet full and tons of shoes. I was going to make you a sneaker head, whether that was your plan or not. Just one pack of diapers for the “just in case”. No stacks of blankets. Drawers full of soaps or creams. I’m super particular of having stuff on my kitchen counters, but damnit was I looking forward to a counter full of all your stuff ready to go. I’m counting how many days I should take off to grieve you and prepare myself to be back at work. I’d gladly exchange that for the pains of leaving a baby at home while I go to work. At least then I’d still have you.

The second scariest thought I have is who will I be when this is all said and done? What will change about me when I get to the other side? I don’t want to stop being me but I know this will change everything about me.

I recognize the toughest part of my personality is the constant need to be in control, to have everything go according to a plan and when it deviates to have it fixed immediately. Right the wrong. If someone is responsible for the failure that they own up to it. I *think* this might be the lesson I’m supposed to be learning here..??? Not everything goes according to plan and sometimes there is no one or anything to blame. Not every failure calls for someone to be on a chopping block. But could we maybe have taught this at a different expense?! No? Ok.

I can’t point a finger. I can’t fix this. I can’t start over in a sense. I have to accept it. I have to live with it. And I have to forgive myself.

In 2.5 weeks I’m going to be a Mom. Thats just wild to think about. I’m being induced at 32 weeks to better the chances Oliver is born alive. There are some new complications that’s making things a little unpredictable. One is called absent end diastolic flow. Meaning, at times the flow of blood and oxygen from my umbilical cord stops. This is due to his size, he’s very small. He’s trying but it’s not enough. The fear is it’ll stop and then reverse. His body will reject and push it back to me. The medical term is “fetal demise” will occur. We are trying to intervene before that happens. Not too soon but not too late. It’s a tricky game we are playing.

I wish I could do everything to help him. Anything. I truly would do anything. But unfortunately and unbelievably so there is nothing anyone can do. With tears in her eyes, our pediatric cardiologist just kept saying she was so sorry. Sorry she couldn’t fix it after he was born, sorry there was nothing we could do and there was no telling how much time we’d have. I wonder what more she knew besides what she told me. She saw a large hole (VSD) in his tiny little heart. She also saw what is called “Transposition of the greater arteries” (TGA). The artery that supplies blood to the lungs is going to his body and the one for his body was going to his lungs. They’re working too hard to keep up.

I’m so sorry, Oliver. I’m so sorry you are doing so much and there is nothing I can do for you. I’d take this away from you a million times over. My one and only regret is that I couldn’t take this from you and carry it myself.

This may be my last entry for a bit. It’s taken me weeks to get this out. Thanks for following the journey and as always thank you for your continued prayers and well wishes. Our little boy is on his way and I can’t wait to see his perfect sweet face and stare into his eyes. I hope the only feeling he will feel is love from his father and I and nothing else. ♥️