So we beat on, boats against the current...

I had a major meltdown on Friday, and ended up at the hospital in Labor & Delivery, fearing the worst about the bean. You wouldn't think my job was stressful. Really, let me just be honest, it's not. Or it shouldn't be. But I, being increasingly sensitive and generally on edge, take everything very personally and Friday was just a shitty day. By the time I got home from work, I was just upset and more than a little stressed, and became more so as the hours passed and I didn't feel any movement in my belly. Called the doctor, who told me to eat and lie down...still nothing. Then told me to drink and lie down...uh, still nothing, and I'm freaking out. I called Aubs, who came over, and we drove to Allen Bennet to get checked (and it took forever thanks to the Rascal whatever concert downtown. Rascal Flatts, that it. Who names a band that anyway? The name alone is obnoxious. I bet their music sucks.)

So Jed met us at the hospital, and turns out everything was ok. They kept me for a while to watch Picard's heartbeat, which looked fine. The little beast--as soon as the nurse strapped the belt across me,kicked really hard. Riverdance hard. I felt a little sheepish, but the nurses said it happens ALL THE TIME (and I choose to believe they were telling the truth, and not just trying to make me feel better!). I cannot speak highly enough of the staff at ABH; they were so unbelievably sweet and gentle and calming. As weird as it was to be in L&D, with all kinds equipment, in a drafty hospital gown, watching 'Everybody Loves Raymond'--the nurses put me immediately at ease. I'd love to be able to have the baby there, but I guess that depends on if Picard gets with the program and grows already.

I took today off and rested, watched a lot of t.v., thought about writing a really good blog entry (yeah, bombed, I know), took Ellie on a slow, short walk, and generally just hung around WILLING Picard to grow. You guys think that visualization works? I dunno, but guess it can't hurt. I just picture him getting chubby, eating all the food I'm eating, and being content in there. I'm sorry that these last couple of blogs have been anything but funny/entertaining/light, but I promise that I'm doing a tremendous bit better than last week.

As the days pass, with infinite slowness, I alternate between moments of despair and moments of great hope. If I had it my way, we would not have another ultrasound, but wait these weeks out, holding onto the belief that what's meant to be will be, and that what's meant to be is something good. Does that make sense? It's like, I don't want this little piece of optimism to be yanked away again. I feel like Gatsby, and I do believe in that green light, and the future that is so uncertain--and tomorrow we will run faster and stretch out our arms farther...



"In every child who is born, under no matter what circumstances, and of no matter what parents, the potentiality of the human race is born again; and in him, too, once more, and each of us, our terrific responsibility towards human life; towards the utmost idea of goodness, of the horror of error, and of God." ~ James Agee