Sometimes I Play Pretend

Picture a beautiful fall day: the sky is blue, the leaves are turning on trees and crunching under your feet. My toddler walks ahead of me, commenting on all of the new fascinations of autumn in our small town. My husband walks just behind me, as though he is admiring his little family and I feel admired, loved, and lucky. And we both smile because we know our family is growing as we walk on that perfect day. I reach down and rub my big, round belly and send a quiet message of love to my unborn babies. I already love my family so much and I know that this is just going to bring more joy and laughter into our home. I picture putting up Hallowe'en decorations and getting ready for the first snowfall. Maybe we can decorate my belly before going Trick or Treating. I am reminded that I should start looking for warm things for the little babies who will arrive in the cold days of winter. What a beautiful life I have. I cannot ask for anything more than this. 

Reality sets back in: the walk from the car to the front door is over in 30 seconds. I consider myself lucky for having left the house that week. That precious moment with my family existed, but only for a moment. It was not nearly long enough. And, truth be told, it was too far from reality. I imagined my dream, my wish. If I am being totally frank, I do this often enough. On a walk to the bathroom when a friend is visiting I imagine that we are having a visit talking about how to paint the nursery or my birth plan and then smile at myself in the mirror, thrilled to be in the midst of a happy, healthy pregnancy. I have these short moments of transition in my bed rest world that allow for me to imagine away the truth. 

I reflected on this tendency recently with my midwife. In truth, I know that this pregnancy will end too soon for my children and that their fates, especially that of my beloved Baby A, are far from predictable. We spoke about milestones: 24, 26, 28 weeks. I shared with her that I have a vivid imagination. Prior to this pregnancy I loved imagining that I won the lottery. I would ask Lee to imagine with me. I would picture us showing our children the world, maintaining our life but without debt or worries. But since rupturing I have not thought of the lottery, I have my own personal lottery. I imagine maintaining my pregnancy until 34 weeks, to be precise, 33weeks and 6days: Christmas Day. Lots of folks will say that a birthday on Christmas is no fun for the individual who has to share 'his/her' day. But, in this situation, I cannot think of a more amazing gift than to have reached such a far point in a pregnancy. It would be my own little Christmas miracle. My midwife laughed with me, but it is nice to dream. 

Facebook status of the day: What are the chances of winning the lottery?