The wait

We've all been there...tapping our thumbs in the waiting room listening for our name to be called. Some rooms are more pleasant than others with plush chairs, coffee, and magazines. They play nice music and try to make you feel right at home. I've done this tons of times before, but why was this so different? Instead of waiting patiently, I feel my body getting colder and my legs shake. I space in and out. I tried to have my questions ready. How did I end up here? When you get the call that something might be wrong with the baby you are carrying, the baby you already love and have named and planned a nursery for, your world suddenly becomes very unsteady. You used to love coming to the doctor. You got to hear your little one's heart beat and check his/her growth. You would get so excited for appointments and all of the possibilities. You laugh about your crazy pregnancy symptoms and ask a million questions about that twinge you felt. Now, things are different. You try so hard to hold onto hope, but this place, this waiting room, it turns from a place of happy thoughts into a place of dread.

My friend put it perfectly "that room was the last place my baby was fine"

Before that first cardio appointment we could still hold onto the hope that the ultrasound was wrong, that they just couldn't get the images they needed, or that it was some misreading. We left the waiting room and returned two very different people. Now our appointments are filled with looks of sorrow and words of encouragement that the doctors use to try to comfort your hurt. We talk of plans for surgeons and ventilators, odds and statistics. I hear the warnings and the preparations and I shiver at the thought that there is no fix, no cure, for my baby. They "will do everything they can" but will it be enough? I can't even keep track of all of the questions I have.

As I sit here this week I just pray that there is no bad news, but nothing can ever fix what this place does to me. Everyone is so friendly, but it can never bandaid the hurt I feel when I sit in this chair. There is a heavy weight in the air and this feeling like someone sucked the light right out of your soul. It's a place of loss and mourning. I look around and see the other moms...anxious, afraid, unsure and I just want to grab them by the hand and tell them I get it. We are in this together.

The wait is the hardest part of this journey right now. We wait for the next appointment, the next update, the next test result. We wait insecure and unsure of what the future holds for our little guy and our legs shake in anticipation. There is nothing like the chill of the wait. Sometimes the end of the wait is great and full of hope and sometimes it is really not, but no matter what each wait brings I know that each moment with Caden, in the womb and out, is making me stronger and teaching me to love deeper than I ever thought was possible. He is a fighter and he is already teaching us so much about the value of today I will sit here as he wiggles in my belly safe and out of harms way, and I will enjoy the wait.