Time keeps getting away from me. I went through a period of not being able to sleep at night, which turned me into a zombie during the day who is too tired to even type.
Things have been pretty uneventful. I’m not as much as a wreck as I thought I would be right now, but I’m still terrified. Having an ultrasound every week is helpful. I can think of several instances where I would have gone to the hospital or my doctor’s office if it weren’t for the ultrasounds and being able to see for myself that my cervix is holding up.
This Saturday will be 24w3d, which is when Jillian was born. I figured I’d be too scared to move, but if things still look good during the ultrasound on Friday, I’ll probably be confident enough to at least get up. I have mixed feelings about this Sunday. It will be the most pregnant I’ve been, which is exciting, but thinking about it stirs up some new emotions. I feel guilty that Jilly and I didn’t make it that far, but then I feel guilty about wishing that things had been different because I am pretty confident that I wouldn’t be pregnant right now if things had happened they way they were supposed to. It’s just hard. I do a lot of pretending that I’m holding up better than I really am.
In other news, we scheduled my c-section at my last appointment. It felt so optimistic to do it, and I feel a little bit like we’re tempting fate, but it needed to be done. We haven’t decided yet if we’re telling people when it’s happening. We’d kind of like to surprise people, but at the same time, I feel like not telling people is going to cause countless phone calls and emails to see if the little dude is here yet. I thought about threatening people by telling them that each phone call, text, or email will delay their first visit by one week, but that’s probably a little mean.