Another Baby Nightmare

…I hugged my belly every day, trying hard to gain strength to survive another day. Twice, I did a special ultrasound check to confirm that the heart defect that killed my son would not hit us again. Every time, the specialist reassured me this baby girl was perfectly fine.

Eden, who was just 5 years old, was very anxious. As most parents know, time is not a concept kids understand very well. She had been asking for a baby sister (she would even settle for a brother) for over 2 years and waiting through two pregnancies was way too long for her.

Every time, she asked, “Mom, how do you know it won’t happen again? How do you know this baby won’t die too?” and every time, we said, “We go to the specialist and he checks and tells us that our baby is perfectly fine”. Every night, before bedtime, I explained to her that it had been an accident, that at the end of 9 months, we would bring home a baby and that this baby would bring the smile back to our life.

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Baby Hope

… I spent hours closing my eyes and trying to wake up in a different life, where the scar is not so painful. I knew what it meant to have a broken heart. I was broken, damaged, feeling like my body had failed me. I had been through a caesarian section and I was in such emotional pain I felt nothing at all.

“I have Eden”, I told myself, trying to find some comfort. Our house was in a total silence. We had to take the new crib back to the store and pack all the little things we had already put in the baby’s room. I was grateful I didn’t have to take care of the funeral arrangements – Gal did that with Eden. The thought of him choosing a tiny coffin was too hard for me and I tried closing my eyes, but that did not help.

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35-hour Baby

I have been writing this blog for over two years now and published more than 500 posts about parenting, but I know I have been skipping a big part of my own parenting. I have been skipping this part deliberately, not because I think it is not important, but because it is too important to write about it lightly. Writing about it means I need to open my heart and as all heart surgeries go, it may bleed.

Do you remember the last scene in the movie The Sixth Sense, when the kid tells his mom, “I’m ready to communicate”? I think I feel the same now. I am ready to open my heart and tell you about some of the defining moments in my life as a parent. It is long and a bit painful, so I think I will do it in installments.

It was on the 39th week of my pregnancy. I woke Gal up and told him my water had broken.

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I’m Leaving on a Jet Plane

Today, I am flying overseas to see my two new 7-month-old nephews for the first time! In the last 7 months, I have seen them in photos and on Skype video calls (thank God for Skype), but when I hold them in my hands, kiss them, hug them and smell them (and their mothers, my two sisters), I will cry for joy.

Both these nephews are the first children of my 36- and 42-year-old sisters and because of the mothers’ age and the pressure of a tough pregnancy of the older sister they are obviously very precious babies. Look at them! I think they know how precious they are. These photos are their real photos with the permission of their mothers.

For one of my sisters, this baby is precious for another reason.

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