Questioning...

I just had to talk myself down from a full blown panic attack.

The day started with my hopping happily from bed and throwing on clothes, adding a little makeup, perfume, things I haven't done in eleven days. I was hoping for a certain visitor. Instead, I got an excuse...a familiar one. Even so, I felt my zest for the day begin to wane. I contemplated washing my face and letting the day happen as it would...

Thank goodness for great friends. One stopped by as planned, another a delightful surprise. I soaked in their energy and said a thank you that I wasn't going to spend another day alone in my head. I was rolled down the hospital corridors and out into the sunshine for a few lovely minutes. I breathed in the fresh air, fed the birds, let the warmth of the sun cover my skin, and felt blessed.

Enough to return to my room and feel determined to make the sunshine a daily treat for myself. It seemed that I had tricked my mood into turning bright...even as, on the inside, I wondered at how long I could lie to myself...

It is more than difficult to be confined when there is so much world outside. I realized my summer would end and my Fall would begin within these walls. And that if I could not keep my cool, my easygoing nature, it would get harder and harder to get people to come see me, free me from these walls, if only for 30 minutes a day.

I lay in my hospital bed uncomfortable, in some pain as my son learns his feet and his fists, and my uterus stretches to give him the room he more than deserves. I try and fail to not think of those other six babies, the men I was with when I made them, when I lost them...and how different this is, knowing that for six months and six days, I grew this child alone. To raise alone. Because, in this, there is no partner to hold hands with, to sing the harmony of the songs I make up for my baby, to do the heavy lifting of keeping me centered.

When I was instructed to brace for what would be the sixth attempt at an IV in almost as many days, I  felt something on the inside of me shake. I heard a voice echo in my head "did you really think you were brave enough for all of this? To take all of this? To feel ALL of this?" My empathy made me feel for the poor Indian woman who was only doing her job, as tears rolled down my face . I didn't want her to feel bad. I just couldn't stop myself from feeling bad.

I waited until she left, to slide off the bed into the restroom. I wanted to collapse on the floor, to sob my heart out. Instead, I sat on the toilet and tried not to make too much noise.

I wondered, not for the first time, why this would be the pregnancy that lasted. Why other times in my life, more stable and secure times, was I unable to conceive then? Why, when I had no clue where to go and how to survive this time in my life, would God finally grant me motherhood...

I am grateful for it. I promise you I am. I just honestly don't know how to do it.

And truthfully...I don't know who to ask.

-L.