My Cocoon of Hope...

We are waiting on the results of the CVS. And it’s hell. We are trying to keep busy, both of us back at work. After a weekend of laying in bed crying our eyes out…. It helps keep us sane, keeps my mind preoccupied and me off the internet googling possible outcomes of babies with Cystic Hygromas at 13 weeks. Working makes me think about other things besides our future and what it could mean for our baby, the fact there may not even be a future. Our next appointment will be on Monday and we may or may not have full results by then. But we should know more come Monday. Also an ultrasound will tell us more. My deepest hope is that the ultrasound will appear normal somehow, the fluid filled cyst and fluid around the baby will be gone. That our results will be normal…..this is my secret dream. I am focusing on that. I also know, that the ultrasound could show the baby’s heart ahs stopped. This thought enters my mind way too many times. To live with this thought, knowing it’s a possibility I cannot even explain. Everything’s all up in the air, so unknown. I am hating the waiting and want Monday to come. Yet at the same time I don’t want it to ever come. I want to stay in my own little world. In my cocoon of hope. Just me and my baby. Knowing these last couple of days, this weekend might be our very last spent together. I want to be the best possible mother I can be. That is all I can do. I don’t want to look back and have any regrets. I want to enjoy every second having them here. I am trying as much as I can to rest, (of all weekends we happen to be moving house, but with the help of movers and my wonderful hubby it shouldn’t be too hard on me). I want to relax, eat well, think positive thoughts while I ignore the negative ones, I do this for my baby. I owe it to my baby. I want to bond with them as much as possible. I spend all the time I can with my hands on my belly, where the baby is; sending love, light and healing positive thoughts. What else can I do? What other choice do I have? The fate of this baby is not up to me, out of my hands. So I’m going to do all I can, giving it all I’ve got. Having been here before, I know that’s so important to do. Knowing we did everything for Amelie, that we were by her side every second in the hospital, gives me comfort. I’m not afraid to bond with my baby, if it makes it hurt more in the end, so what…it will hurt anyway….