We have wanted this for so long. We have dreamt and waited, prayed and prayed some more. God has heard our pleas and now, 4 months later, our little angel is swimming and kicking, dancing in his/her own little fish bowl inside me. It is a dream come true, and yet it is not quite the way we've always pictured it. I am here, and you are 3 and a half hours away by plane.
They all say that pregnancy is hard. I must say being pregnant and alone is a million times harder. Enduring the surge of all-day sickness was a cinch! Now halfway through my miracle, I am plagued with disturbing dreams, anxiety, doubt, insecurity and fear of the many unknowns that lie ahead of me. I find comfort in feeling our little angel move, doing his routine somersaults...each time I want to cry in joy and yet when I turn to my side there is no one to share my relief. There are days when I feel short bursts of pain, and there is no arm I can hang on to for comfort. Nights of unrelenting headaches are no exception, and yet I find no hands massaging the pain away but my own. I want to take monthly photos of myself as my belly grows, but there is a telling sadness in my smile that I want to hide.
In the next coming months, I will be facing more unknowns and I am terrified. Will I remain alone as i fight for our child's life and my own? Each day that passes, I begin to ask myself if all our sacrifices are worth it. What is the use of sacrificing when we are not realizing the dream that we have so longed for? Is it really worth missing the most magical part of God's miracle? I don't know anymore, perhaps these are mere illogical thoughts coming from a woman pumped up with too much hormones.
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