Welcome to the Scariest Ride on Earth

"When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching - they are your family." - Jim Butcher

     James and I knew, before we left the hospital, that we wanted to try again as soon as possible. Whether it was recommended or not, we knew deep down we wanted to be parents.
    Rainbow pregnancies are scary. Scratch that- pregnancy is scary. However, with the added reality, that things can go to hell in an instant, the nine months of a rainbow pregnancy can only be described as the scariest roller coaster of your life. We have traversed 30 weeks of this journey and it has not been easy and will likely get harder.
    People keep telling us how brave we are. They say they are in awe of our strength. James and I entered in to this fully understanding the challenges that might lay ahead. However, we didn't ask the permission of our family and friends. (I understand we didn't have to.) We selfishly go on this ride and dragged many friends and family along with us.
    You are all with us on this scary ride of ups and downs. Without being asked, you have boarded the train, strapped on and have held on for dear life with us. When we first knew we were pregnant, I didn't want too many people to know. I feared miscarriage (read: disappointment) I didn't want people to be scared for me. We told family right off. Our family would hold us up through any outcome, but I'd couldn't ask friends to do that just yet. What I found?
    When we finally announced our pregnancy, friends, from all different levels (best, close aquaintences) became family. You all signed up to come with us, with all it's ups and downs. You all stood next to us, unflinching and have continued to stand, unwavering, holding us up. All I can say is, thank you.
We have 7 more weeks of this wild ride. It's almost over. The time to celebrate and rejoice is almost here.  In 7 weeks, we can all hop on the carousel. Fun, yet predictable.  Minor ups and downs and rounds and rounds. With more laughter than screams.

I Can't Wait: Conversation Between Loss Parents

After one of our doctors appointments this conversation actually happened.

Me: I can't wait until you can feel this little guy move

James: I can't wait to hold this little guy

Me: True. I can't wait to hear his blood curdling, heart wrenching scream.

James: Yes!

Oh moms, I can feel your eye roll from here. I can hear your "Just you wait." You know what? I truly can't wait. I have had many  moms talk about parenting, the hardships, the struggles. You know what? I can't wait! Late nights, no sleep, poopy diapers, worry, fear, anger, frustration. I can't wait! Feeling guilty that I'm not doing a good enough job, or when I have to drop E off at daycare and he cries because he just wants to be home with mom and dad. Bring it. Staying up late, wondering when E is going make it home from his friends house after driving himself. Can't wait. Leaving him off at college to make good choices and pray that we did a decent job raising him. I. Can't. Wait.
     
As difficult as being a parent will be ( oh, and I can hear your judgement, that I have no idea what I'm getting myself in to.) nothing. NOTHING, can hurt as much as losing your child. Nothing can cause guilt like the feeling that you let your child down. She died. Nothing will keep you up at night like the long list of what ifs and dreams lost. So, when you tell me "Just your wait." I will happily reply'"I can't wait." Because it is true. I have accepted and learned how to parent an angel baby. I'm ready to accept the challenge of parenting an earth baby. (And all it's challenges)