I have been pondering where this blog should go from here.
There are so many avenues it could take.
I could talk about the amazing staff and the difference they truly make on your inpatient stay. How they are paid to take care of you, but they aren't paid to be your friend although most of them make the choice to do so anyways. I could talk in length about how much this impresses me.
I could talk about the other patients I have met - the funny stories, the odd stories, the horror stories and the beautiful stories.
I could talk about the amount of support I have from the outside as well. The visitors, the packages, the notes, the calls, the texts, the emails, the letters, the posts.... it goes on and on. This I could also discuss in length because I am in complete AWE of the outpouring of support and love. (this includes those of you who I have yet to respond to, sorry! You are appreciated!)
I could discuss the way this type of situation effects a relationship. My god could I discuss this. I could tell you how I am further amazed with the size of my partners heart and all he is willing to do to make this situation okay for me. Not for him, but for me. His selflessness is unimaginable. I could go on and on about this for days but it makes me cry so hard that I know that I could never possibly relay these feelings into reality.
I could discuss the actual pregnancy and the ins and outs of what goes on here. Every day is a battle. Every day is a surprise. Living on pins and needles (literally) daily. Holding my breath through each test, fearing each moment. Really forgetting all the beauty of why I am here and instead drowning in fear. I could tell you in depth about each test, each ultrasound, each success and each 'failure'.
I could discuss the blessing of each day. That when nightfall comes, and the tests are done for another day, the relief I feel. We feel. And then the dread of the next morning and what it might bring.
I could discuss the hope. The faith. The positive energy. The things that come from love and knowing we are surrounded by it daily. How when I walk through this hospital I am reminded just how insignificant I am. How little I really have to worry about in comparison to so many others here. How although my situation is terrifying, the odds are better than some others around me.
I could talk about how I have gone absolutely bat shit crazy. Every "crazy" thing I was before is now amplified to an excessive degree. Worry? HA! I thought I worried the last 36 years, I had no idea. Stress? Don't make me laugh! I didn't know what stress was. Obsess? Give me a break... if I was clinically OCD before, then I am sure there is a straight jacket with my name embroidered waiting somewhere for me now, because I have exceeded the limits of acceptable!
I could talk about how I miss the outside world. To feel the actual earth under my feet. To have 5 minutes of privacy to take a shower. To just go to the store and wander. To drive a car and listen to music. To snuggle in my own bed. To pet my cat. To not feel guilty with every visitor that makes their way here. How I have watch peoples entire lives change because of my situation and fitting me into their day and making an effort for me.
I could discuss all these things in depth. The good, the bad, the tiny moments, and the big. I could go on and on because this has become my only world. My only focus. When you are in a 10'x10' room, with nothing to think about but the well being of the two babies you are trying to grow and possibly your own health (only because it some how relates to those two babies) - nothing else exists. It becomes a breeding ground for the scary. I could think about all this and I have, for many many weeks. But last night, I remembered why I am here. I remember the wishes I made earlier in my life. The wish to watch our kids take their first steps together and to see their dads face when they do. The wish for a game of catch in the yard. A wish for crazy nights of homework that I don't even understand. For family vacations, for birthday parties and Christmas mornings. For strolls in the park and days on the lake.
For the first time- in the weeks and hours plagued with fear, I remembered the actual prize. I remembered that we will get through this, that we are strong enough to do it, that my babies are fighters, that NICU days will not last forever, and that one day all these wishes will be a reality.
And today, I guess that is what I will focus on. Because love can always conquer fear, if you let it....
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