Fear of the unknown..

I have always believed in God to some extent. When I was younger, I may have also believed in a goddess or two however for the most part, I have been a Christian.
I've always prayed, since I was a little girl and I have felt that those prayers were heard. I felt loved, sometimes in a powerful way. I've prayed the same prayer with Ivy since she was a little baby and still do.
When I was pregnant with Zoe (and a bit before) my beliefs took a turn to the left and I entertained some different ideas. I analyzed different possibilities. I began to feel farther from God. My life was more chaos at the time than I care to explain. Zoe's dad reads this blog and I don't want to argue the details. No one could argue that it got crazy around here. Then I woke up that horrible morning trying to talk myself out of the fact that something was very wrong. When I got to the hospital and realized things were indeed very bad, no one would tell me what was happening even as they started prepping my tummy and screaming at one another for supplies. I was terrified for my baby and I prayed for her to be alright. I prayed until the ceiling crumpled down and the room turned black. When I woke up I prayed. I prayed for three weeks. I did feel a powerful peace as my daughter died in my arms. I felt a powerful peace leaving the hospital without her. It started to wane around the time of her funeral and slowly disappeared. I can not tell you the last time I have felt true peace. My closeness to God had been tinged by my own guilt and anger. I did not feel like my prayers were heard or that they meant much. Didn't I spend weeks on my knees asking God to heal my little girl? If those prayers didn't matter then, why would they matter when I'm praying for someone else's little girl?
I feel like I pray now because I feel like I'm supposed to. I seek that closeness with God, but since I'm trying to be very honest here, I don't feel it.
It's hard to resolve her death to anything else but that it just happened. There are certainly things I could have done to help her chances before the abruption in my opinion. I had doctors tell me that I couldn't have done anything while other ones told me I could have.
The point of all this is that I still try, and probably always will as far as God is concerned but sadly that relationship has certainly suffered and I'm afraid that I will be 'punished' for it. It sounds ridiculous, I get that, but that doesn't change anything.

Let's move on, shall we?

Things in my household have been a little tense. I've recently learned that quite a few people IRL read this blog, just never comment. It's been hard for me to come here and be honest about my family situation or anything else really, not knowing who was reading and why. Today I decided that it didn't matter who is reading. I write here for my own sanity.
I have been thinking of the entrance of this baby into the world. I fear that I will abrupt before my scheduled cesarean. I am afraid of being awake if I do make it to the scheduled cesarean. I've had a few surgeries and I've always been asleep. I am terrified of seeing all those instruments all lined up and ready, so for the last two, I asked to be knocked out before I went to the operating room. The anesthesiologists did it that way and I was fine. I have no chance of that happening now. I don't know how I will quiet my imagination long enough to go in that sterile operating room fully alert and knowing what is too come. Yes it is the birth of my child, but it will also be major surgery without general anesthesia.
I know that there are some of you who have had one and think I'm being silly. I know I'm silly. I'm also very scared. The last time I was cut open I was terrified and needing answers that weren't coming. They were strapping down my arms and yelling at me to be still as my baby and I were in a lot of danger. I was in so much pain and I was so afraid. I don't know how to see it any other way than how my experience defined it in my mind.
I spoke to my doctor about all of this and he more or less gave me the ole' pat on the back, 'It'll be just fine' routine. It didn't help at all.
So, that's where I've been. Trying to navigate the bumps in my relationship with Kenny while trying to get mentally prepared for a new baby while feeling incredible fearful of the actual event or the not making it until said event.
I just want to fast-forward to happy mommy, healthy baby, at home, in peace. I really hope that I get there. I hope that is what is waiting at the end of this. Happy mommy, healthy baby, at home, in peace...