Today I am 32 weeks and 5 days pregnant.
Seems like an oddly specific day to even notice. Among all the other milestone days in a pregnancy - 12 weeks, the 20 week scan, the 38 week check up before settling in to nest and wait - why would 32 and 5 cause even a blip on the screen?
Today blares brightly in my mind because after 7:30pm, I will be further along in pregnancy than I have ever been before in my life. Waking up tomorrow still pregnant will be even more new territory.
Arthur was born at 32 and 5, removed quickly via C-section and whisked away to the NICU before I was even sewn up.
On 32 and 6, Hunter and I were already experts at collecting tiny amounts of colostrum every two hours around the clock to take down to the NICU. We were run ragged with new parenthood but not in the usual way. There were no diaper changes and skin to skin and drowsy baby holding to mark our first day as a family.
Instead we were alone in a room in the "mother and baby" wing trying to get an idea for what life would be like while hearing newborns cry through room doors up and down the hallway and hushed voices of family responding to them.
I was still hooked up to an IV drip of magnesium and a blood pressure cuff that activated every hour to ensure my preeclampsia really did end with birth. I was up and walking oh-so stiffly to the bathroom by myself, save for Hunter making sure the IV pole went with me and didn't run over any cords. We were diligently going through the motions of feeding a new baby but there was no baby in our room. I was gritting my teeth at the head to toe body aches as I began recovering from birth (you could say I hold stress in my neck and shoulders...and butt and back, right down to the soles of my feet), but my prize for all the effort was two floors down and being taken care of by strangers. We were parents. But were we? Of course we were. It's just that nothing felt or looked like anything we had wanted.
Reaching 32 and 5 today with no indications of illness or alarm about the progress of this pregnancy is a celebration and a day of reflection, as most days have been while I've been growing Griffin. Today I can say with confidence that my body really is the right and best place for Griffin, which is not something I felt at this same point in time during Arthur's pregnancy.
Today I will not be visited by a doctor telling me it's time to go rescue Griffin. I will not be prepped to have an unplanned cesarean. I will not watch as a too-small baby is held up for me to see, if only for a second. Today, Griffin is safe. So am I. And so is Arthur - he and I just took a round about way to get there together.