3 years ago tomorrow, I gave birth to Little Warrior.
About a month after starting seminary, the husband and I waited the requisite 5 minutes, then saw that the stick had double lines. We were pregnant again. As with the others, completely planned. We were lucky and have never taken it for granted.
Bad morning sickness, exacerbated by my seminary then being housed in a really old building, with old building smells. One whiff and ewww, I turned green. I began stopping at the Subway on the corner to pick up a sandwich to have before walking inside.
I stopped at that exact Subway this week, not to get a sandwich, but to apply LW's EMLA cream before we got to the hospital and they accessed her port (meaning: I put on numbing cream that takes 30 minutes to take effect before they jab a needle into the portacath beneath her skin.)
Huh. Stopped there both times for LW, in a way.
I've written before about the movie Two for the Road, and how, when going somewhere I've been at a different point in my life, I expect to see my younger self out of the corner of my eye.
As I bent over LW's seat and applied the thick cream, covering it with Press And Seal (great for bandaging), what would I have done if I had looked up and seen my pregnant self inside Subway, buying a turkey and lettuce sandwich? What would I have told her?
Nothing. I would have told her nothing. There would be nothing that I could say.
I would have looked at her, in her innocence, in her green glow ... just looked at her, wistful. I would have looked at her and silently wished her well, sent her good wishes in enjoying the rest of her pregnancy, enjoyed the first 6 months of her baby's life.
I have learned, oh how much I have learned. None of it has been worth it, but still, I have learned. And I have had some wonderful moments and some horrible moments. The only thing that I could tell her would be, "You will get through this." But if I told that innocent, so-much-younger me that, it would only worry her.
And it's okay. Because someone else told it to me, someone who had been there-done that, and she said it right when I could understand it.
LW is asleep on the living room floor. No nausea or hair loss yet, but she's slowing down a bit. And very cranky with Mom. It's time to put her to bed and go to bed myself. Birthday cake is made, just needs candles.
Three years ago tonight, my bag was packed, the baby seat was in the car. I knew I'd be meeting my daughter the next day. She was my 4th, so there was no fear of labor. Excitement. Anticipation.