Unexpected

We just got back from a fabulous vacation to Southern California.
Eventually I'll blog about the whole thing...
But for now I'm skipping to the present.

Yesterday I was unpacking.
Overwhelmed, I realized that I needed a place to make stacks of our belongings.
My eyes turned to our kitchen counter -
Which was completely covered in other stuff.
So I set about clearing off that counter.

Just before we left our home for the airport, I'd packed my backpack.
When I'd opened it, I realized that it was full of the things that I had packed the last time.
The time that I left my house for an undetermined amount of time in the hospital.
I hastily grabbed those things out of the backpack and left them in a stack
On the kitchen counter.
The items needed for this trip were thrown in,
And out the door we ran.

Last night I reached this stack from my backpack,
Innocently sitting in the middle of my counter,
And I saw these two little teeny tiny beanie babies.
I was hit.
With one of the biggest breakdowns I've had since Macie's birth.
Just like that.
So unexpected.

These little things -
The little monkey,
The little lobster -
Were used for at least an hour, three times a day, every day of my hospital stay.
That was the amount of time that my doctors prescribed for Macie to be monitored.
As I fought against a cruel set of circumstance,
And tried to keep her growing inside.

Macie was so small still, and so was my belly.
The monitors would not stay put on their own,
And they also had a hard time picking up Macie's movement.
So these little things -
The little monkey,
The little lobster -
Were used to put additional pressure on the monitor so that the test would work.

When I saw them last night,
The memory flooded in.
Sitting in that bed.
Trying to relax,
To pass the time with books, iPad, playing cards and phone calls.
Listening for her movement.
Listening to her heartbeat.
Hoping for accelerations.
Hearing over, and over, and over
That she wasn't having the accelerations they'd like to see.
But she was passing by the skin of her teeth.

As a parent,
"Passing by the skin of her teeth,"
Is the opposite of reassuring.
It's like when you have something tested at the doctor,
Like a thyroid,
And when the results come back normal you want to relax.
And then you realize that you are just a little point away from being outside of the normal range.
"Passing by the skin of her teeth"
Made me think that she needed more attention,
And worry that she wouldn't get it because she had just barely passed.

I remember when they decided that I had to have the baby that day,
As soon as possible,
The nurse came in and asked me if I wanted to be put on the monitor.
I did, so very much.
I wanted to listen to my baby's heart,
To believe it was strong,
And knowing that I wouldn't ever hear it like that again.
Even though I should have had seven more weeks to enjoy it.
Realizing that the sound of my heart was about to be taken from her.
Seven weeks before nature intended.
Because of a condition that nobody can control.
So unexpected.

I will always be a little sad that this pregnancy ended early.
Sometimes I will be very sad, as I was last night.
I do not deny that the experience brought at least as much blessing as it did pain.
And I would not trade a day I have had with my Macie now.
But I will also allow myself to feel sad when it hits.

I threw away almost every thing that I had in that backpack.
But these little things -
The little monkey,
The little lobster -
I kept.