Everyday, I walk on a tightrope, a delicate balancing act.
If I stay on the rope, I have a balance. If I fall off, I land on one of two extremes, "no worries at all, everything is normal" and "lots of worries, nothing is normal."
It is a delicate balance, this, the line between what is normal for me, a three time mother in her fifth pregnancy in six years, and the woman who had a late-term preemie 14 months ago and must be hyper aware of anything that goes amiss.
What is the balance between a few contractions here and there, knowing that the uterus is a muscle that, like all muscles, contracts and knowing the warning signs of pre-term labor?
What is the balance between knowing that in the third trimester cervical fluid increases and the signs of a bacterical infection?
What is the balance between prepareing for my son's arrival and not getting things together too soon?
I am 27 weeks and walk this balance everyday. I struggle with wanting everything ready now, wanting his and Georgie's room decorated, wanting a dresser to put the clothes in... but not wanting to come home to a house decorated for a baby but no baby in my arms.
I struggle with knowing that I will make it to 30 weeks... but how far after that, I don't know.
There's the balance between wishing it were April and I was ready to give birthanysecondnow and knowing that this is my last pregnancy and savoring every minute of it. (Because it has been my easiest pregnancy, physically, but my hardest emotionally.)
Every week I am closer to 30, when contractions began with Georgie but stopped and started, and 35, when my water broke. I don't know how I will handle being 35+1. It will be a Sunday and I expect I will be on edge most of the day.
There's a balance between wanting to be a homebody and knowing I can't park my butt on the couch for who knows how long.
It's a hard tightrope, a difficult balance but one I must and do walk... and will walk, until my baby comes.