I just finished up a three day stay cation with my family. They flew in from the midwest to be with us for an early Christmas. My grandparents are in their 80's, my mom, my aunt and uncle, and then the four (and a half) of us. Usually we always go to "gram and pops" house but my OB grounded me, apparently you cannot fly in your third trimester. It was fun. I cooked, we opened presents, we laughed, played cards, watched movies. My heart is full. I love my family.
During their stay December 13th came and went without a thought for the first time since 12/13/09 happened. For those of you that haven't followed this blog from the beginning, 12/13/09 was the day I lost my first pregnancy. I had surgery that day for an ectopic pregnancy. Up until that day I was happily though wearily pregnant (I just had the feeling something wasn't right). On that day, my life fell apart. A lot. And it took me a long time to move past that day, to overcome infertility, and make peace with my path to motherhood.
It's been four years. I can honestly say that I am at peace with my journey. For had it not began with such a loss, I would not have realized how much I truly wanted to be a mother. I would not have tried so hard to become one. I would not have opened my heart to the idea of adoption. I would not have my daughters. As I'm writing this, daughter #3 is moving around in my belly, and 1 and 2 are downstairs giggling and coloring. My heart is full. I am a mother.
In reflection over the past few years I realize that things got really bad for me before they started to get good again. I lost my sister in a car accident in September of 2010. For the first time this Christmas, we talked about her without it feeling awkward and empty. I brought up memories without getting that sick feeling in my gut that someone was going to get upset over it. As a family I think we're beginning to realize that her life and its sudden end is a part of us forever. We have an obligation to keep her memories alive by talking about her short, amazing life, even though it tears at our heart strings a little.
One of my daughters (ironically the one who's middle name is after my sisters) reminds me a lot of my sister at her four year-old age. Her facial expressions, the words she uses, the way she says things with her little attitude. I love this. It's made me realize two things: 1) she's likely picking up her mannerisms from me which means that my sister and I were a lot more alike than I realized, and 2) my sister is around me. She is my angel and she lights my way even in the most trivial of moments. For this, I am grateful.
Over the past four years I have learned a lot about myself, and life in general. I have learned to be selfless, humble, and I can say for certain that I believe in God, and miracles. My husband and I were watching some show a few months back and we came across this quote, I think I've written it here before, but here it is again, as I say it to myself so many times when I begin to fret about something:
"I lost the worry along the way, and God was good to me everyday."
As for the baby, she is getting bigger, I can tell because she actually moves my entire belly. She still enjoys her 4am tae bo sessions which are always followed by my scavenging downstairs for a snack. My blood sugars haven't been great but I've been off on my eating schedule because of family here. I have gotten back on track today. My aunt took some maternity photo's while she was here, and I'm glad she did. They turned out good and it will be a nice keepsake for me to have.
We have 66 days until our due date. Holy Shit.
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