34 weeks now...38 weeks then....

As we near AJ's 2nd birthday, I find myself wondering if I will ever be able to live through the month of March without counting days. Maybe last year because it was his first birthday...maybe this year because I'm pregnant again....but I count the days until he died - literally torturing myself in some ways with the thought "at this time 2 years ago, he was alive". Everything was still ok at this time 2 years ago.

Yesterday, 2 years ago we had a baby shower for him at work...it was a rainy morning that day, but full of love and excitement for him. 9 days later it was again a rainy morning, full of sadness and pain because he died. Oh how I pray for sun on March 30th this year. I need to wake up that morning and see all of God's beautiful creations glistening under a beautiful sunrise. But as life has taught me in the last 2 years, it will be what it will be that morning and what it is, will be what it's supposed to be.

I say this with wishful thinking on my part, but I hope that we will induce Bubble Jack at about 38 weeks. I fear reaching the 39th week since AJ died at the 39th week...although, Eli was born fine at 39 weeks. Oh the psychosis of a paranoid, heartbroken, excited, fearful, proud mother! I know the odds, the statistics, the reality...but emotions - coupled with hormones - usually win the day. I count every kick wondering if it's the last...I laugh with every hiccup and attempt to implant the memory of it in my mind in case it's all I get...I try to live each day appreciating the aches and pains of pregnancy because it's an experience some never get. For all of the craziness I go through on a daily basis, I am thankful for it all because without AJ, I would probably not have such a rich appreciation for all that I am dealing with. Odds are, Bubble Jack wouldn't be on the way without AJ's life story being what it is. I do believe all things happen the way He intends for them to happen...and through the psychosis of March, I know I have no control over any of the coming weeks. I can only pray my way to the finish line with a sweet tender angel looking over my shoulder whispering - "mommy-it will all be ok."