Shanah Tovah and a reflection on Rosh Hashanah’s past.

Shanah Tovah to all my Jewish friends out there. I wish you all a sweet new year. May this year bring hope, love, and (for those of you wishing it) a baby.

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This is the 3rd time I have been pregnant on Rosh Hashanah.

The first time, I was in the hospital. I was 33w5d and they were desperately trying to give me medicine to stop the contractions, and to help mature his lungs. But the medicine that was supposed to keep him in, put him into distress, and we started the new year by having an urgent cesarean and a baby in the NICU. And exciting, if traumatic start to the year.

But the next year was sweet. We spent the first 18 days in the NICU, before we finally got to come home. There was a lot of change that year. Having a baby, going back to work, going down to part time, and then finally deciding to stay home.

The second time I was pregnant on Rosh Hashanah, I was 13 weeks pregnant with Noah. Not in the hospital, but home hooked up to a zofran pump and IV fluids, we still didn’t make it to services. Rosh Hashanah was early last year, early September. We still had a whole month before we found out there was a problem with Noah’s brain. The last year has been some of the darkest times of my life. Severe HG. Noah’s diagnosis. Delivering him knowing he was dying. Getting through those first few months without him. The pain of TTC again. All of our infertility testing and bad news, after bad news. Early losses. And then finally, Sam. Being terrified of another early loss. And then of losing him like we did Noah. We spent the final days of 5774 afraid again.

On Sunday we went to town to celebrate my birthday (hello there thirty). We did a lot of walking. The HG has subsided a bit, and it’s the first trip to town I’ve had in months. Towards the end I started having contractions. Three pretty close together. I’ve been having 5-10 Braxton hicks contractions a day for about a week, but these were much closer together. I sat down for most of the rest of our trip. But they started up again the next morning before I even got out of bed. By the time I had been awake 3 hours, I had had close to 10. I started timing them and for awhile they were 10 minutes apart. Not good when you are 17w. I played a lot of phone tag with my doctors before they finally brought me in for a cervical length check around 3:30. At that point I had lost count at 30. But thankfully my cervix was still nice and long. 3.74cm to be precise. While I was there I got my first P17 shot, and since then, my uterus has been much calmer.

But still, this is my 3rd time being pregnant on Rosh Hashanah, and yet, I have never been pregnant by Halloween. Hopefully this will be the first time.

And I am starting to have hope. I have been taking out maternity clothes, and today, I started packing away clothes that were too small. And despite my scare this week. And my 18w ultrasound on Tuesday, it wasn’t until later that I thought of what a leap of faith that is. Faith that Sam won’t be coming out in the next month. So that hope and faith thing? Maybe I have it after all. I figure it’s a good way to ring in the new year. To believe that 5775 will be different. That it won’t have a terrifying pregnancy complication like 5574 and 5572.

We still didn’t go to services tonight. Apparently that just doesn’t happen when I’m pregnant. But this time, it’s not because I’m pregnant. Nope, this to me it is because our almost 3 year old woke up last night with a fever of 101. And at it’ s high today it was up to 102.5. But at least this year, there are no IVs.

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