Mi Isla Sola

…no write… So, it’s been awhile. I’ve come and written a few words, only to abandon them, for lack of desire to continue. I’m at a point now (28 weeks) where I’ve almost given up control. I spent so much time on what ifs… and fear. Now I am basically numb. What is, is. I cannot even muster up enough confidence, or assurance that things will go well to convince myself. Baby is active and busy in there, and sometimes I don’t know how to feel about the kicks.. Sometimes, when it’s been a few hours since I noticed, I think  ‘okay.. the baby died.. now I just need a few more hours of stillness to confirm, then go to the hospital”… and there’s almost a sense of relief, like it’s over.. I can stop holding my breath.. I can move on, and be done with this. Then when I get a set of kicks, I feel overcome with relief. I guess I’m protecting myself, or feel like I am, and in doing so, pretending I don’t really care about this baby. It’s weird, I don’t think I’ve bonded well with this little bean at all. It feels what I suspect a surrogate pregnancy would feel like. Acknowledgement that yeah, there’s a baby in there, but it’s not mine.. or I won’t get to bring it home, or somehow, I’m not connected to it. With Isla, I was very bonded. I spent literally hours daydreaming, preparing, just imagining life with my 2 kids.. Now, even when we speak of times beyond my due date, we still only speak as a family of 3. I can’t actually imagine my life with another baby. It was weird to do so with Isla too, but this is different. This feels like I’m dreaming, and will wake up any second, and not be pregnant, or with a dead baby. I don’ t feel at all like I have 9 (!!!) weeks to go to deliver this child. Bizarre. I visited a friend in the hospital who just gave birth to her sub baby. She lost a girl (and had a sub boy) and I literally grilled her on how she was feeling afterwards… grief for her lost baby, joy for her new one, the works.. So far, it’s about what I expected.. lots of love and joy, but many tears too. I suppose nothing ever really ‘fixes’ one from a trauma like this. Anyway, I have so much more to say, but will save it for another day. Suffice to say, the next 9 weeks are going to be the fastest and the slowest of my life.  Not sure if this is a good or a bad thing.