As I was sitting, yesterday, getting my blood drawn 4x in 3 hours, starving, to determine my glucose level and whether or not I have gestational diabetes, I kept thinking, holy cow manure---10 more weeks and our little bug will be here! I thought about the wonder of life and what a little miracle she is, that took Brad and me a year and half to create. And, despite the circumstances in our life, how graced I am by God to have this little bundle of joy to welcome in late August. No matter what I am going through emotionally, our little girl will always, and forever, be the one thing that makes me happy every day, even when I will be annoyed, overwhelmed, or completely exhausted.
Progressing into the 30th week, I have been thinking about the milestones in my pregnancy. Like when I told Brad, two days after Christmas, with two wrapped up pregnancy tests with the double lines highlighting the obvious positive, and how excited he was (at first, wondering why I would wrap up two used pregnancy strips). Or the first ultrasound, to see the baby move and see her heart rate, rapidly fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings, since we couldn’t hear her heartbeat at the week 12 appointment. And now, to feel her move on a day to day basis, trying to find any source of space left, to stretch, kick, punch, are the little things I wouldn’t trade for the world. Plus, I have been so blessed to have a fairly healthy, normal pregnancy, without the morning sickness or otherwise, with just the extreme fatigue, cravings, and back aches, all of which I can handle. Here’s to hoping labor and delivery is just as easy. J
What makes me sad are those people that would rather destroy the life they created when they find out they have a 1 in 500 chance of carrying a child with downs syndrome, or some other genetic disorder, because it would cost too much to bring a “child like that” into the world or would cramp their style. I don’t understand this and I don’t want to judge, but it makes me sad when people have the means and resources to provide for their child, would rather get rid of it and start anew, because it didn’t turn out the way they wanted it to.
Back in April, Brad and I went to Seattle for some extra testing, because we had a 1 in 200 chance of our child having neural tubal defects, as suggested by the screening test we had done. That was the day we were able to see if we were having a boy or a girl and as the technician looked at her spinal cord for any abnormalities, she was pretty certain that she was growing just fine. The doctor we spoke with later, assured us that everything was progressing the way it should be and that the screening tests are not always 100% accurate, but when you’re a first time parent, you want nothing but a healthy, happy baby brought into the world. It was a relief, needless to say, but it was nice to know what to do if something came back positive, and what our options would be. Again, I never imagined for one second of ever ending her life just because we were not capable of caring for her or not financially set. I never imagined a life without her, as we had worked for this moment. It just was not feasible.
I am not going to lecture those that choose abortion, but I am Pro Life. I love when people who are Pro Choice give me mock scenarios to prove there are reasons to abort, and I think to myself, of all my amazing mom friends out there who took the chance on their little ones, knowing many of their circumstances and stories, I can justify that life is a miracle and it’s God’s choice, not ours, to end life.
In 10 more weeks, Baby Schroeder will be here and I am nervous and overwhelmed, as any new parent would be, but I am excited to show her and share with her the next milestones in life. She is inevitably going to get a scratch when she attempts to run too fast or bust a lip from a fall, but she will know this: She has the most awesome family (extended, included!) who love her beyond words, and will undoubtedly understand life’s blessings, in the forms of mini-miracles, consequences, and the reality that everything happens for a reason.
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