Fear

I have become consumed with fear. I haven't admitted this to many people other than myself because I'm also afraid of others' reactions. I don't want to tell my husband because I know it'll trigger his own fear. I don't want to tell my family because they'll try to reassure me while harboring their own worries. I don't want to tell my doctor because I'll feel stupid if he runs tests and everything is fine. I don't want to tell my friends because I don't want to be patted on the back and told everything will be ok and I'll pray for you.

But I'm tormented. My mind never stops running through scenarios. Every little ache and pain could be my placenta detaching. Every time I place my doppler on my stomach and don't immediately hear his heartbeat, my heartbeat becomes frantic. Every time his movement slows down just the tiniest bit, I fear he has already died within my womb.

I sit still for hours at a time just pleading with my baby boy to kick, flutter, and move enough to satisfy my need to know he's going to be okay. But it's never enough.

Now that I've passed the halfway mark, I'm going in for more and more appointments. I understand the precautionary side of them, but at the same time, I can't help but wonder if it means something is wrong. I had a lot of appointments with Levi because something was wrong.

I can't bear to lose another child. I'm not sure I would survive it. I'm not sure Josh would survive it. How would I break the news to Aidan? Aidan, who is so excited to be a big brother and tells me weekly that he is going to play with his little brother.

I don't like this fear that I live in, but I fear I will live in it until the day my baby is placed alive and breathing into my arms.