I am a bed rest athlete

The notion of being on the wrong side of mercy has stuck with me since I first posted about it a couple of weeks ago. In fact, it had been on my mind so much that I forgot that I had posted about it before and began planning a blog about being on the 'wrong side of mercy'. Then I realized I had already done as much. 

I have seen other pPROM mothers identify the first week post-rupture as the worst one. And certainly that week was filled with shock and grief. I never want to go back there. But I am not sure that the 20 - 24 week stress is any easier; they are both the worst! I have had time to adjust to our new reality, but I have invested six weeks in getting this far. I am so much closer than I was all those weeks ago to viability, but I am still far enough away that if I went into labour I would have the same outcome. My spouse and I have both talked about the anxiety that we are each feeling and the conversation keeps happening, night after night. 

This got us thinking about the stressful nature of these weeks of gestation and we each found an athletically-based comparison most helpful to describe our current experience. I explained that it seems as though I am running a marathon in which the finish line keeps moving: it never seems closer and I know that as (if) I approach it at 24 weeks, it will move to 26 weeks. I am exhausted and have no idea how far I will make it in the marathon. I have never worked so hard while having no tangible finish line while simultaneously having the threat of complete loss hanging over my head. When and how will this end? I could never have prepared myself for such an emotional, heart-wrenching marathon.

My husband, on the other hand, explained it seeming like he is in a series of races. Perhaps this is slightly more optimistic. He described running a race which will end at 24 weeks but that he will immediately be thrown into the race for 25 or 26 weeks. Equally as exhausting, but at the very least, crediting the milestones he attains.

Either way, we are both exhausted by the prospect of having come this far but knowing that we might have only loss at the end of the journey. We want so desperately to have these two children.... sometimes I end up feeling like I cannot even see a finish line at all, I just feel lost, desperate and exhausted. 

Facebook status of the day: Two hearts breaking without having even lost... the running continues.