It begins...

Usually, at night, as Jake and I lie in bed we talk about many things. How work went, what is going on with the kids, the shed Jake is building in the backyard. Last night, however, we had a long talk about something we have never really spoke about before. Last night was different. There was a nervous feeling in the air. Twas the night before kindergarten...

We spoke of years flying by. We spoke of our fears for our little girl. How we were feeling like this was the beginning of it all. School lunches, homework, mean girls, tears, parties. The control was no longer ours. This is when we have to start to let go. To hope that the last five years have been enough to build her up when she has to handle a situation on her own.

We woke her up early to prepare. Her backpack was already packed and hanging on the front door. Her clothes laid out neatly on her chair. Camera and video camera waiting patiently on the counter. I did all the a good mom should do. Her hair was put up in her favorite "princess" hair do. Her clothes still stiff from the iron. Shoes so new they were free of creases. She had a good breakfast and dad gave her one last pep talk. Pictures were taken with all her friends as we patiently waited for the bus. It came. She waved goodbye and climbed on board. Then she was gone.

I was holding it together but my baby boy fell apart. He felt so abandoned by his sister and best friend. He wanted desperately to get on the bus with her. He sobbed and sobbed all the way home. I did ok. I was sad but I did better today than I did at pre-school. She was just so happy to go. I can't help but be thrilled when that cute little face is beaming at me through the bus window. All of the crap of growing up will come later but today was a good day. I feel like I climbed a mountain today. Emotions ran high for both Mason and I. Everything turned out well though. The worst part of all of this? I have to do it again tomorrow.

7 weeks

How many parents out there dream of an hour alone. Even ten minutes. Time away from the needs, wants, and tears. I know the feeling all too well. Wishing I could just lay down and close my eyes for a few moments without worrying about a catastrophe waiting to happen.

As good as this all sounds, I have been at it for seven weeks now and have decided that it is not as glamorous as it seems. It has been hard "checking out" as a mom and handing off my responsibility to everyone around me.

I am happy to report that the end is in sight. Week after week I have seen the doctor and my progress is still the same. My body has held better than expected and I am very near to 35 weeks. The baby is fine and growing. My doctor told me I could get up after 35 weeks so that has been my magical number all along. I have been slowly working my way back to life. Trying to find the strength in my legs again. I am anticipating going to a store again and shopping for my own groceries. When I was first put on bed rest I was 27 weeks. 35 weeks seemed years away. Now I am at the end and I hope to remember this time once I am fully mobile again. I hope to remember all of the kindness that was so willingly given to us. I hope to remember the gratitude I felt to everyone around me. But most of all, I hope to remember this....

When this all began, my family held a special fast for me and I was given a blessing. I had faith in the fasting but most of all, I felt support by everyone. I felt buoyed up by everyone else. I struggled to feel much else because I was so concerned about my unborn baby. Worry consumed me. Each day that went by was a blessing and each week was celebrated that my stomach was still full with baby. Last week, while I was at the doctor's, I found myself talking to him about how wonderful it was I made it this far. He expressed to me that he thought I would have the baby within two weeks of being on bed rest. He never imagined I would make it this far. He was so concerned because my cervix measurements had cut in half in a time span of three days and at that rate, I should have a baby about a month old by now. I told him that I had a lot of prayers and blessings in my behalf. He just smiled and said, "Well, we know those work. Just tell Jake no more blessings or we will go to 42 weeks with this baby." We laughed about that but on my way home, the gravity of it all hit me. I hope to never forget how much of a miracle this all has been. My doctor said it best when he said "A few weeks ago you were racing to the finish line and now you have just sat down. Absolutely no progress has been made since." I know that this is not a fluke.My Father in Heaven has watched over me and held my body right where it needed to be. He has blessed me beyond what I could have expected and I hope to never forget it. This baby will come and he will be fine. My faith is stronger than it was seven weeks ago. That has made it all worth it.