Wow! You're pregnant?!

It is a very unusual feeling planning for a funeral while the person is still alive. I know it is very common, but for someone more in their 40s or older. I was giving into my little addiction today; went shopping at Target. I picked out a few matchbox race cars for my son, got some lavender bath beads and 3 lavender reed diffusers. I know, it seems like a lot, but I wanted one for the living room, bathroom, and my bedroom. I need to be surrounded by calm scents, and frankly, the smell of my neighbors dog crap that is cooking in the sun and drifting through my windows is making me a little sick. I hate dogs.

I ran into an old co-worker today at Target. She used to be my manager actually; it was really nice to see her. We talked about our lives, what we're doing and our kids. I was trying to avoid any attention directed towards my pregnant belly. I couldn't hide it. "Congrats on your pregnancy!" It would be too awkward to explain, yet too hard in the middle of Target. I just said thanks and told her when baby boy is due: August 22nd. I went on my way after wishing her well. It was so nice seeing her; she was one of the nicest managers I've known, a very good person.

Later in the evening while I was cooking dinner, our doorbell rang. It was our neighbor. He has been trying to help us with our siding since our last contractor Patriot ditched us during last Springs hail storm; our siding is still damaged. I was not in the mood to deal with our siding dilemma as that too is a long story. He is aware that I pregnant as we have talked about it and our other children before. I didn't want to get into too much detail with him either. I just informed him we are in the middle of planning for a funeral and haven't had any time to call Patriot to get released from the contract we had signed with them, or to call our insurance company up again to go around in an argumentative circle. He understood and just told me when we are ready to give him a call. I really appreciate him checking in with us again though. Our siding does need to be fixed, and I cannot forget about it too long.

It's weird going out into public, or getting together with people. I am obviously pregnant. I cannot hide it. I almost feel like I am walking around with a watermelon under my shirt because I know that what I am going to get in the end is not a baby I get to take home. I say watermelon, because if a person was really walking around with one under her shirt, that person would feel uncomfortable, physically and emotionally; thinking that everyone is looking at her with odd expressions on their faces, just waiting for something to happen. That's because they are. A watermelon would look very strange, and I too, myself, would exchange a look of "what the heck?". I feel like that's what people are saying behind my back..."what the...". I have already gone through receiving funny look, even looks of disgust, from complete strangers in public when I was pregnant with my son. I can understand that... I look like I am 16 years old. People have a very hard time believing me when I tell them my real age. Even now more, when I am out with my son, a giant pregnant belly... wow, the looks I get! I even saw one mom shaking her head behind my back and once she realized I was watching her do this for a few seconds, she stood tall and scampered off with her perfect little family. Maybe I should make-up a few hickeys on my neck, wear spandex booty jeans, and a really low cut shirt. That will give all the moms in the area something to talk about. I don't know why this bugs me. It just does. I think because people do not know me. They do not know that I have held a job since age 14. I have been on my own since age 17. I have worked very hard against the statistics and came out on top. I am very educated; most companies in this area wouldn't even be able to afford to employ me. Yet do you think I would even be given the opportunity to interview? No. I look like I belong in high school. Other people, who actually like me, say "You should feel very blessed to have found the fountain of youth. You will be thankful for looking so young when your older". Well, yeah maybe. But I need to establish a career now and not when I am 40 because then I look like I am 20. Whatever society.

Back to reality, I apologize for my off-the path rant. So yeah. I am pregnant, and it feels very strange. I often catch myself feeling the baby move and jumping to grab my husband's attention "Oh, feel, quick!" I forget sometimes... and I don't want to make things harder for him. He is having a hard time with this too. I think he might be a little more detached than I am though. He cannot feel the baby move on a 24/7 basis; I can. I do not want to invalidate his feelings, I am just saying... I think our feelings are different in their own way.

I told my husband that I have been Googling images online about Triploidy and spina bifida. I want to prepare myself for what the baby will look like. I am not doing it in any way to punish myself, or torment myself. I need to be prepared. I do not want to be shocked, which I am sure I will be anyways, or to be disgusted. It is my baby, and I will love it no matter what it looks like. I just need to know now... I suggested he do the same. I am unsure if he will though. Its really difficult, and quite surprising, that there are actually pictures online that are very easily accessible, pictures of deceased babies, pictures of babies kept for science... it's really hard. The hospital wanted my baby's body. I said no, they may do their autopsy if they wish, but I want my baby back. He deserves a proper funeral and I do not want to subject him to be on display for the next 100-some years. I agreed to the autopsy and other testing involving something to do with chromosomes; because again, God let this happen for a reason. My baby was supposed to be like this. I really hope my baby help leads to more answers for this horrible, horrible triploidy crap, maybe even better treatment and hope to God a preventative measure (although I am not sure prevention is possible without the practice of test-tube babies, which again is a political controversy). Only time will tell...

I love my son, I love my husband, I love my unborn, dying baby Elijah. Now I need to find that love again for myself. I wonder where that went...
Maybe it is in my percocet bottle. Wait.. that's empty....
Looks like a lavender bath and some Food Network for me instead...

Good night Lord.