This has been a weird week for me, emotionally, and it's only Tuesday. Sunday was the Arthritis Walk, which was great, but it was a very early start. Rich & I had to be at my office at 5:45 a.m. to get my intern set up for media pitching, and then we drove over to the Wadsworth Theatre for the walk (this is after Richard had a long evening pub crawl that I picked him up from at 12: 30 a.m.). Vivian was very active all morning, to the point where it stopped being amusing, and just started hurting. By the time we left, we were exhausted.
That night, as we lay in bed, we talked about my upcoming ultrasound on Wednesday, when I'll be 25 weeks along. We lost Eliza at 25 weeks, 2 days, which is where we'll be with Vivian on Friday. All of a sudden, I was reliving the whole experience again in my head: the drive to the ER, the mediflight to Reno, the horrible moment when the doctor told me she was gone, everything. At first, I just had tears, but then it became violent sobs, and I was practically screaming. I felt bad for Richard because my emotions just came out of nowhere. It didn't last long, but I felt like there was so much grief and anger pouring out of me that I didn't even realize was buried there.
Yesterday was a bit strange because Vivian was oddly quiet for most of the day. Her bouts of fairly regular activity have been my emotional saving grace, because they have reassured me that she's healthy and strong. But yesterday was weird. I kept telling my self that she had been so active on Sunday that she needed a chill day, just like I did. I came home from work and figured I'd have some chocolate, as a sugar rush usually perks her up. But nothing. I was trying to stay calm, but with this week being what it is, it was awfully hard. I decided to lay down on the couch and just relax, and see how she did a bit later, after I had dinner.
At this point, I must have fallen asleep, but my dream was so realistic, that I didn't realize it. In my dream, I was sitting on the couch, watching tv, when I noticed that my hands were swollen. Very swollen. Swollen in the same way that they were last year, where the backs of my hands were so puffy I couldn't see any bones or veins at all. I started tapping the backs of my hands to check the puffiness, and I was thinking, "it can't be happening again." I must have woken up, but I still didn't realize that I had been asleep until I looked at my hands and saw bones, and veins and no swelling. I took my blood pressure, just in case, and it was fine. Just a bad dream. I made dinner then, and sure enough, 30 minutes later, Vivian started to kick. Not super strength, but enough to reassure me that she was ok.
This morning, Baby Vi is back to her highly active ways. After Friday, everything will be new. I won't be able to compare anything, since it will all be new. I hope I'll be able to calm down a bit. Until then, I'm just focusing on Vivian's kicks and turns and even hiccups. They are her way of letting me know that she's doing just fine.