Three years doesn't feel like that long, but when it comes to having another little one, it's a lifetime. I'd forgotten what my belly looked like, what kicks felt like, the changes I go through.
Right now, I'm sitting on the couch feeling him poking around near my belly button. He seems to like kicking the other direction than I'm leaning. I love it, I'm soaking up and I'm fearing it.
Yesterday I went to the hospital, yet again, because I was cramping since Sunday night. I can hardly sleep because of being in pain and I feel like he's trying to escape. Thankfully, everything's closed up tight and he's just a big low laying baby. Very low.
Noah never felt this low from what I can remember. But like I said, I'd forgotten.
After tomorrow, I have one week until a big day for me. Viability Day. It may be a little "doom and gloom" to talk about it, but I have to. I will be 24 weeks in one week. That's the soonest almost any doctor/NICU will attempt to save the baby should something happen. After next week, it will still be heartbreaking should I go into labor, but I know he'll have a team there to help him.
Noah loves saying hi to his baby brother. He came in again this morning, lifted my shirt and said "Hi baby broder. See you couple months!"
On that same note, I had a sudden fear today. What if he doesn't see his brother. He's too young to know what that can mean. How can I handle hearing him talk about the baby but not be able to have him understand?
Yes horrible thoughts. But when you've had losses and are around so many who are going into labor at 28/29 weeks, losing little ones later in pregnancy and you see their pain, how can you not think about it?
Right now, I'm going to soak this up. I'm going to admire my belly (no matter how insecure I am) and I'm going to love every kick and pain. Ok, maybe not every, but most. He's my baby and I am fighting for him. I am fighting for Noah's brother and Aaron's second son. My second son.
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