Our daughter Marley died on a Friday morning when I was seven months pregnant. That afternoon, our doctor’s office called saying they were holding a space for me at labor and delivery so I could be induced that night. I was taken aback. In the six weeks we knew the pregnancy was in jeopardy, no one had ever mentioned that I might have to “give birth” to a dead baby. The very phrase itself is paradoxical, but there I was, being told to pack my things and head to L&D. That wasn’t my only option, but the doctor’s office didn’t share this with me because they were affiliated with a…

T-4 days to delivery. I should be freaking out. I should be excited. I should be anxious or worried. But I am not. I am none of those things. I am eerily calm. Chill. At peace. Zen. This is a new feeling. Something neither of us has felt in 3 years. I remember a particular Denver Share meeting where we had a guest facilitator who had us write a word on a rock. The word was supposed to be something that was meaningful to us about the loss of our babies. This was shortly after we lost Marley. I wrote the word, “peace.” Peace was something I had been longing…

The room designated as “the nursery” in our house has gone through many changes in the last four years. The previous owners used it as a bedroom for their toddler. Then it became my office, where I took classes and studied. When I became pregnant with Marley, the plan was to turn the room into an adventure-themed nursery. But when Marley died, the room became a somber museum, a monument to our loss. Her clean and unworn baby clothes hung in the closet. All of the shower gifts were in piles around the room. The door was often closed because neither of us could bear to spend time in there.…

A funny thing happened this week. At my Friday appointment, the baby was head down. By Monday, she was head up, and then by Friday, head down again. She’s a mover and shaker! The other weird thing that happened this week was that during my NST, I had two contractions about 12 minutes apart. Or so the monitor says. I didn’t feel them at all. And my OB reassured me that if I am not feeling them, there’s nothing to worry about. I know that Braxton-Hicks contractions are practice labor contractions, and I have been getting those a bit more frequently. Maybe 2-3 times a week now. But an actual…

I hate the term high-risk. High risk for what? Anything? Everything? Getting pregnant for the first time at 38 years old, I was instantly labeled high risk because I was over 35. This meant that my anatomy scan at 20 weeks had to be done at a Perinatologist’s office (high-risk OB) instead of with my regular OB. I remember going to that office and filling out the paperwork for the first time. Each page had a little label with my name, DOB, the medical record number, and the words “High Risk.” This was BEFORE we even knew about Marley’s condition. (Also, if I am already at the high-risk doctor’s office,…

This week the baby is head down. She had been breached for a while (head up), and now she’s moved into the correct birthing position. Hooray! We’re on our way. Having a breech baby isn’t a bad thing per se. I think I read something like 50% of babies are breech at week 27, and only 5% are by week 36. So they somehow turn themselves around in there and get into the correct position for delivery. But man, having a not breeched baby is just WAY more comfortable. Her little kicks and punches are more pronounced when her head is down, and it’s easier to count kicks and track…

Genetics are always such a crapshoot. Which is what makes life interesting. Will she have Nick’s temperament (I pray to God!) and my love for organization? Will she look like one of us, both of us, none of us? Up until recently, we didn’t dare ask these questions. Preparing for a baby and imagining a baby are actually two different things. Preparing. That’s easy to do. It’s logistics. Stuff. To-do lists. And if you know Monique, you know she does those things well. Imagining a baby. Well, that’s some tough stuff. We know she is real but do we dare to dream? Do we dare to think about all possibilities…

Technology is a hell of a thing. This week we saw our baby’s face for the first time. How? Shout out to Heather, our ultrasound tech, who went in for a 3D photo and nailed it. Apparently, these 3D photos are a composite of 2D images taken and rendered, so God knows how accurate they are, but she has a face! And cheeks! And lips! And they are so cute, and I can’t wait to kiss them all! Up until now, we had only seen profile photos in the ultrasounds. And like all our babies before, she had my nose, and we suspect she has Nick’s feet. All of our…

I recently described my life as being like a turtle. Moving slowly and having a hard time getting off my back. But what happens when the turtle gets bit by a zombie? Well, obviously, you have zombie turtles. And that’s basically what I am this week. I’m moving slower than a turtle. More like an undead turtle. And I don’t mean the World War Z type zombies with super ridiculous speed. I’m talking about the 28 Days Later zombies that move slowly with a singular purpose. That was me shuffling to the kitchen this morning to make myself breakfast. Slow. Singular purpose: Breakfast. But by the time I got to…