The month of thankfuls.

Just a week ago, my husband and I stood in our kitchen. We talked about how perfectly everything in our life was going right in that moment. No not in a conceded, boasting kind of way. Just in a "love this moment," and very grateful kind of way.
I do not believe my life has to be perfect to only find things to be thankful for. As we all know, in the midst of life's hardest tragedies, I've tried to see the beauty through it all. Standing in the kitchen, only a mere week ago, I said, "I am just prepared for things to go not so perfectly."

It really sounds negative right? Possibly. More than anything I don't feel an entitlement to some kind of happily ever after. God took my baby. There is nothing I can do to change the outcome of his plan. He does not owe me some kind of repayment, perfection, or greatness due to my loss. With beauty always comes pain. In this life, there will always be pain.

I've been concerned for our little boy since the very beginning and we found out he was being graced into our lives. I worried for congenital defects. I worried for so many anomalies that I learned about through so many beautiful mothers who said goodbye to their own precious beings.
In the beginning we prepared ourselves to say goodbye, once again. From the second our hearts locked with his, this pregnancy has thrown us curve balls so to speak. "Subchorionic Hemorrhage." What did that mean? What risks and hurdles did we face for our little one? With all odds against us, we fought. I subjected myself to tiring, emotional draining, and not even promised to "save him" bed rest. And Davis sailed through. Our fighter. Our champion. As a mother, even when I failed to provide the strength, hope, and courage for our rainbow baby, there he was, willing his heart to keep beating. With such a purpose. Such a small understanding of what he needs to do. A soul so brand new, had more focus and drive than his mother could and tried to provide through the uncertainties of life.

Tonight, as I still count my handful of thankfuls, I really haven't neglected this month when so many people really pull forward everything they have to be grateful for.
In the middle of the night, November 8th, I woke up in the middle of the night to a cold wet feeling. I knew I had a doctors appointment early the very following morning, and I couldn't bring myself to believe it was anything more than typical lovely pregnancy side effects. As I mentioned and described the events to my doctor the following morning, she as well, wasn't convinced it was anything alarming. She of course ran a strip test just to be certain. To set my mind her mind at ease. Instantly the paper turned green. Which is a measurement of pH levels determining whether or not your amniotic fluid was leaking. Green is not the color you want to be seeing at 27weeks, 3days pregnant. They swabbed me to be sure my water had broken by running a slide under the microscope. The slide revealed "ferning." ::""A fern like crystal indicating the fluid is in deed ruptured membranes.

More doctors filled the small exam room to break the bad news. Instantly I was sent up to labor and delivery. Where I have been admitted. For how long though, no one seems to know.
And here I am. Uncertain. Feeling a little broken. Surrounded by so many people being thankful out there in the real world. And the brokenness that is inside, makes me feel worse. For three days now, Davis is fighting. He has shown no signs as to being ready or prepared to make this fight for life in this, real world.
There has been no more leaking. The contractions, with the help of a magnesium sulfate IV drip, have become next to non existant. But I am still here. For they cannot send me home with such at stake.

I cannot help but feel awful for the situation. For I have to sacrifice myself completely for Davis to continue growing and thriving. But at the same time, I have to sacrifice my three other children completely for unseen circumstances. How can I work through the guilt of feeling like I am sitting at the hospital while everyone else is stuck having to pick up the pieces. All because I am not there. And no one asked for this.

I most certainly did not. I read so many stories of friends near and dear to me, continuing with their pregnancies so smoothly. How can I choose between my three living children and my husband, and all of the family members who most definitely didn't want this burden, over an unborn child? That is like living between a rock and a hard spot.

Today I am thankful for so much. The opportunity to hold Davis, full term. The feeling of hope when I thought for sure, I would be limited to only touch once more. For days, weeks, possibly months. I still have a chance for a healthy baby boy, that leaves with us. Not before us. I'm thankful for the meticulous care the hospital has given me since I first arrived Tuesday afternoon. I am thankful for an awnry baby boy who refuses to stay put so we can closely monitor his rapidly beating heart. I am thankful for medical technology that stopped an arrival no one was prepared for, most of all my precious son, and for the medical technology that could and can save his life had he been set on his own timing schedule. I'm thankful for my mother, who will drive from vacation all night to pick up my children in life's most delicate moments. I am thankful for her complete sacrifice to help care for my family while I am unable to do so myself regardless of her own schedules and to-do's. I am thankful for my husband who still gets up and goes to work, though I am sure this causes great stress to him as well. I am thankful for family and friends who have sent flowers that really do brighten my little hospital room. I am thankful for so much this November, I really am.

I will be even more thankful if I get a second chance to live out the remainder of this pregnancy at home with my family. And with Davis, safe and sound inside mommies tummy for another good three months...