sunday

7:30 this morning A called. At 34 weeks, she was bleeding. Crying, asking if I could take D so they could head to the ER.
Our morning went swimmingly. The boys had soooooooooooo much fun spending a sunday together. Much Thomas loving was had, and many giggles and kisses too. And not a tantrum, screaming I'm pissed because you stole my toy anything occured. It was great. What was better was that although everything isn't all better and great for A, it is controlable and can be fixed. Her mom is heading over tonight and will spend the week, so I do feel she'll be well taken care of.
Through all of this, I havn't been able to control the tearing up I am experiencing. I know everything is going to be fine, and it's not even me going through it, but after becoming a mom, the thought of loosing a baby, The mere thought, sends me into waves of sadness, that just wash over me and rock through me. I am very close to A, and very close to her son D. And I can't bear to think of what could....
We had friends over last night for a movie after our rehearsal. And she lent me this great book, "great expectations" or something, anyway it's all about childbirth and all the different stories shared by writters. canadian writers. And it encompasses ALL stories. good, bad, scary, terrifying, uplifting, hillarious, etc. And I think I am a little desensitized to it all. We as mothers, hear so many "stories." Stories of labour, delivery, recovery, midnight feedings, fights with husbands, re-sexing again, children having fits, not sharing, what jimmy did at grandma's what Noah did at playgroup.... we hear it all, but we don't actual think too hard on it. And when I do... it hits too close to home.
A, I'm thinking of you.... and we'll be over for cookies and tea in the morning.... and we'll share somemore stories...