The excitement and joy that I have at growing a new life and adding a sweet babe to our family has been overshadowed by fear and uncertainty.
This, combined with my uni course load, has triggered my anxiety and PTSD. I have been floundering, struggling to fully engage in life as my brain continuously logs and examines each symptom, each difference between pregnancies.
Will this time be different? Will my sweet babe be healthy and safe? Am I strong enough to parent another premature babe? To watch their struggle, and hear their small cries of pain and confusion.
With each passing week there has been more hope. My blood pressure is normal. My compulsive swelling checks have revealed nothing. And today, one week and six days before the gestation my last pregnancy ended, a growth scan revealed a healthy babe. A babe who already weighs more then Layla did at birth. Whose body and brain is being nourished by a healthy placenta.
Since my apptointment I have had random moments of joyful tears. Maybe, just maybe, this sweet babe will get to pick their birthdate. Maybe my babe will be born healthy and strong. Maybe, this time, my body will provide a healthy, safe harbour for my babe to grow in. Maybe I will be healed.