2nd Trimester Begins...

As soon as I finished the last post about trusting God to take care of us I knew there would be a point where I would come back to reality and to my fears. That time has come. The thing about trusting God is that it is a daily, hourly or even by-the-minute decision to push out fear and let in hope. You do not just make a one-time decision and that's it.

Suddenly more triggers have come up for me. I just hit the 14 week mark in my pregnancy, which means I am officially in the 2nd trimester. The second trimester also happens to be the time when my preeclampsia came on, which led to losing Peter at 24 weeks.

Suddenly things are not so far off. Just about 2 months until I can get preeclampsia again. Just about 22 weeks until baby will be here if they deliver me at 36 weeks as planned. Not really things that I should be thinking or worrying about, but here they are in my mind. These are just the kind of things I have been trying to stop thinking about.

On top of it, my parents came and helped us move some furniture into our spare room to make it more guest-friendly and storage-friendly. The talk turned to where the crib will go and I realized very quickly how not ready I am for all of this. Can we just push the pause button and take a break?

And then on top of it, we realized that yesterday in the Catholic Church was the feast day of Sts. Peter and Paul, the Apostles. It took me back to our honeymoon in the Vatican where Nick and I ended up in St. Peter's Basilica celebrating Mass for the very same feast. And afterward, as we walked in St. Peter's Square, Nick asked me if we could name our first born son Peter. There it was, we had named our first child that we would not even conceive until 3 months later, and that we would get only 2 days with in this life. It was the emotional equivalent of being knocked down by a huge wave.

Anyone who has grieved a loss will tell you that there will be times when you are doing so well and then out of nowhere a huge wave of grief will overcome you. It felt like a punch to the gut, and I just wanted to go home and curl up in a ball.

I pulled it together enough to make it out to dinner with some friends from church and there was a couple there about 8 years younger than us. I ended up telling them about our story and about how God kept calling us to trust him more. So despite my total weakness I was chosen to witness about God's love. That has to count for something, right?

 I'm not sure what the purpose of this post was except to update where I am at the moment. I made you a promise to keep writing whether the news was good or bad, and I will keep that promise. At the moment, I know I need to fill up my emotional tank and then maybe I will be able to spell it out a bit more. So until then, see you on the web!