Sanity Lost

Five years ago, we lost a baby at 18 weeks gestation.  She died over the 4th of July weekend from a true knot in the cord.  We discovered her demise at an ultrasound on July 5th and induced on the 6th.  My only indication that something was wrong was the intense backache all weekend, the contractions gearing up for labor.

I try really hard to be a woman of faith.  I don’t believe in signs or omens.  I don’t think certain days are good or bad luck.  I believe in the Hand of God not the hand of fate.

But here I am once again, 18 weeks pregnant over 4th of July weekend.  I have an ultrasound scheduled for the 5th. Oh, and my back is again killing me.   Please, please, please let there be no induction on the 6th.

I am fighting to be rational and not fear, but the memory of that week haunts me.  My heart remembers the agony.  I just want it to be the 7th today.  I want to sleep through this weekend and not have to face the memories and the fear.

I want to enjoy the cookouts and the fireworks and just celebrate this weekend instead of swallowing the fear that lurks below the surface.  My soul can be strong, but I am not soul alone.  I am also flesh, and my flesh is afraid.