19 weeks: The end.

Well, I'm officially 19 weeks pregnant today.  1 week from half-baked; 2 days past the worst day of my life.  19 weeks will be the furthest I get in this pregnancy...maybe in any pregnancy.

My husband and I have spent the last couple days clinging to one another and just trying to process everything.  We had a very very difficult decision to make and we somehow managed to make it.  In a few more days I will no longer be pregnant. Our wonderful, amazing, IVF miracle baby; our little Petey Nugget who we love so much and dreamed for and planned for and wanted more than anything will no longer physically be a part of me but will forever be in our hearts. 

I HATE this.  I hate that we are forced to make this kind of decision. I hate that there is no good decision to be made. I have a very hard time thinking about what will actually happen next week but however abhorrent that process is, I know that I am not strong enough for the other option.  I can't continue to carry this life within me, just waiting for it to die. I know I can't physically go through full labor just to hold our lifeless deformed child in my arms for a split second before it's gone forever. I can be strong when I need to be, but I can't be that strong.  I'm pretty sure that would break me.

My pregnancy symptoms mock me now.  Nothing has changed with me physically just because we now have this knowledge.  My belly continues to grow, my breasts continue to ache and every stretch and pain and cramp that I used to cherish now makes me cry.  I'm still up in the middle of the night throwing up from morning sickness but now I choke on my tears as I retch over the toilet. I know it hurts my husband too to see my belly bump but there's nothing that can be done. I absolutely dread what we have to do next week but it also can't come fast enough.  We are in purgatory right now and there's no way to try to move on and heal until that is done.

We started telling our families last night. Originally we thought we might wait for a bit until we were in a better place mentally and emotionally but then we realized that once we finally reach this "better place", they will all be starting from scratch with their grief. They'll want to grieve with us and we'll be at a point where we want to move on.  So, in spite of how difficult it has been to verbally relay this information to people who love us and also love our baby, we're doing it. We're working our way through everyone.  It is so painful and we keep finding ourselves apologizing to them for hurting them too. It's so hard.  My parents and sister will be coming over today for a bit and my mother-in-law tomorrow because they just want to be with us during this time.  Everyone feels so helpless.  This will be the first time we'll be talking with people face-to-face about this and I'm a little worried. I'm sure it will be completely draining. Everything is draining right now.

The last few days have moved in slow motion. Hubs and I are together all the time; we are so conscious of how one another is feeling at any given moment and we spend the days alternately crying, processing out loud, or just staring off into space.  We really are each others lifelines right now. He's strong for me when I can't be, and I for him. I am so lucky to have him. He's truly amazing.  I guess what we're really doing is figuring out how to grieve.  Neither of us has much experience with grieving and there's no rule book on this so we're just figuring it out as we go along; being open with each other and allowing ourselves and one another to explore every thought and feeling, while also trying not to dwell or wallow in pity. I don't know if this is what we're supposed to be doing but it seems to be the only thing we are capable of right now.

One of the only things that really has helped is the kindness we've received from everyone.  I am truly blown away by the love and support we've received - and so much of it from people I've never even met in real life.  When I lay awake in bed in the middle of the night tormented by my thoughts, I'll think about Cici & Jen's willingness to just be there to listen to me ramble and help me work through things, or about Sam's recent blog post that truly moved me, and it calms me and makes me feel loved and not alone.  I think about all the amazing IDOB and SAIF ladies who are so caring and loving and took time out of their days to think about and pray for me, my husband and our baby.  I am truly humbled by how much people care and how many people seem to physically feel our pain too. I am so lucky to have met such wonderful women and I really don't know where I would be without you all.  I just want to say thank you for all the comments, all the love, all the prayers and also for sharing our pain.  Kate said something to the effect of how her heart is with us and is enveloping our home with love and warmth and that's truly how it feels, knowing how much you all care. It helps to think about that during the really hard moments. 

I know I will need to fall back on that strength and support next week. I don't know how we're going to get through it but I know that we will.  And eventually we will start to heal and slowly begin to move back into normal lives again. I have no idea what the future holds and can't even think about that right now but I do know that we'll be okay.  

A quote from Les Miserables kept replaying in my head the other day and I think that may have to be my driving motto for a little while:

We are definitely still in the dark and will be for a while but I know the sun will rise for us again.  In the meantime, thank you so much for being there for us.  It means more than you could know.