Part 5 - A Year in Holland - Waiting for Mason

After our 11 hour day in Boston, there wasn't much else to do but wait. I am, by nature, a fixer so you can imagine how helpless I felt after being told there was nothing left for me to do but rest, take care of myself and enjoy the rest of my pregnancy.

When we made the decision to have a third child, I remember thinking how much easier it would be now that I was a veteran parent. I wouldn't dwell on, or overreact to, all the little things I did with my first two children. Breastfeeding was going to be a piece of cake. If I had a summer baby, my three wonderful children and I would spend our summer going to the beach, playing in the park, going for bike rides and walks along the bike path. My trip to Italy was completely planned and I was already living it inside my head.

But with the tests completed, diagnosis confirmed, and nothing but time on my hands, I started to think about Holland. I tried to remember that Holland had tulips and windmills. But I still grieved for Italy.

I joined a cleft message board and started reading other families' experiences. I looked at hundreds and hundreds of before and after pictures. I tried to imagine what my baby would look like. When I was honest with myself, I admitted I was terrified that I wouldn't find him beautiful like I did his brother and sister and I cried at the thought. I started telling close friends and family that Mason would be born with a cleft and I knew that their reactions would mimic my own so any time I told someone new, I made sure to sound optimistic and positive, even when I didn't always feel it.

The rest of my pregnancy wasn't easy. On top of the all the normal things women experience during the second half of pregnancy, I carried the added weight of apprehension, fear, and dread. I was scared. I still wasn't sure I was strong enough. I knew the first year of his life was going to be the hardest year of mine. Some say that babies choose their parents. What if he chose wrong?

Every time I asked my husband that question, he pointed to our bedroom wall. On our wall hangs a piece of paper, one of Lia's preschool projects, dated January 22, 2009. She wasn't yet 4 years old and on the day before our first ultrasound her preschool teacher posed the question to her students: When I Grow Up I Want to Be _____________.

Lia's answer, in beautiful, shaky preschool handwriting was: "MOMMY"

(Part 6 coming soon..)