Towards the Light

My first jug of used needles.  Working on my second. 

 

There is an old 80's movie

called Poltergeist where a little girl named Carol Anne gets sucked into an after-life spirit limbo.  At one point in the movie she sees a light.   Her mother calls out to her, "Stay away from the light!" because she will end up in the after-life, never to return.  Later in the movie, a wacky munchkin-medium tells the mother she must instruct Carol Anne to go toward the light, as it becomes her only way out.

 

Often Guy and I call to each other, "Go toward the light!" and the other responds, "No, Carol Anne, stay away from the light!"  We think we are so funny when we misquote old movies.

 

But this has been in my head today.  Going toward the light.  I have become so sensitive to every tone of voice, statement and expression of other people.  If someone responds sadly to something I say, I feel their sadness.  If I think about or linger too long on things, I get pretty far away from the light.  I don't know why this is a lesson I must learn over and over again, but it is.

 

Tonight I went to see Stephanie.  It might be the last time for a while.  She was tired and so drained from the chemo.  I brought her a silk scarf I made to cover her head now that she is shaved, and showed her how to tie it pretty (thank you youtube cancer survivors and devout jewish women for your tutorials!).  We visited for a bit.  I wanted so badly to hug her and take away her fear and pain.  I wanted to wash away her memories of the past three months and fast forward her to a time when all this will be fading memories.

 

As we talked, I heard in my head the words I tell so many laboring mamas, "Don't think about the past contractions and how hard they were and how many, and don't project forward to the next one.  If you do, you give away the peace of this moment."  I have been telling myself this over and over in the past few days as I find myself fretting about the birth, perhaps another cesarean, and the procedures waiting after that. 

 Just be here now; and if something makes you feel dark,

 go toward the light.

 

The dark tells me to count my troubles since February; (31 doctors appointments, 70+ blood tests, 184 shots, hundreds of blood sugar tests... oh yeah baby, suddenly I'm a math rock star!).  It tells me to worry the baby won't latch, that the NICU stay will be much longer than expected because baby will be very sick, that I won't be able to hold the baby at all or get to the NICU if I have surgery, that I will be in one hospital getting my procedures while my baby is in another. 

It whispers discouragement and fear

and interminable trials.

 

But when I try really hard to see the light, I can see that there are only about a dozen shots left.  Only about as many days till I am able to really hold my baby in my arms as there would have been if I had gone up to my real due date (or later, like I usually do).  Only a few more of the terrible what-ifs left on my list to move past, instead of all of them.  I see that it all could have been so much worse, that I have made it to 38 weeks, 5 days, and that the past 7 of them have not been with a preemie in the NICU.  I did get a blood clot twice, but not three times.  No abruption.  No fetal distress.  I have been carried in the arms of loving friends and devoted family who have picked up the pieces of my life, loved my children, and been true instruments in God's hands.

 

This quote bears repeating here:

 

"Don't you quit. You keep walking, you keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead. Some blessings come soon, some come late, and some don't come till heaven, but for those who embrace the gospel of Jesus Christ, they come.
  It will be alright in the end. Trust in God,

 and believe in good things to come."
- Jeffery R. Holland

 

We can get through this.

God is in charge.

 

Ethan joined many of our friends and shaved his head
to support Stephanie in her battle-future-win with cancer.
Proud of this boy.

 Oh, and no, we have no idea about when this baby is going to come.  Contractions last night for 3 hours that stopped.  No word from any of our millions of doctors; total radio silence (likely the holiday weekend didn't help that).  I imagine sometime this week.  A month ago it was all they could talk about to get this baby out, now nothing.

Weird.  Feel like I am in limbo, too.  Carol Anne, help!!!