Waiting to exhale...

ANNNNDD... RESULTS ARE:

Well, I don't exactly know yet. I'm pretty sure that everything's alright. My fluid levels, which were at an astoundingly high 32cm, have dropped to 21cm. Which, according to the internet, is well within the normal range.

I have yet to hear a confirmation from my nurse yet, so I'm going to wait to completely breathe my sigh of relief until I do.

But, much like my descent into fear last time, my acsent from it hasn't been sudden. I heard hear say the words, and like a cautious mother, I kept waiting for the bad news to come.
They told me I could leave, without really telling me if that meant I was all better or not, if there was any need to worry still.
As she dismissed us from the room, I kept looking at her, trying to find the words to ask her..
So, am I okay now? Is my baby going to be okay??
I refrained, partially because I knew that the sweet, little nurse-in-training wouldn't know any answers any more than I do.
I swear, they torture us. For fun.

But slowly, the realization that everything is back to normal is sinking in.
My brain is slowly, but surely being convinced that everything is okay. Everything is back to normal. It's okay. No need to suppress your fears any longer.
Nothing is wrong. Not anymore.

And it's only been a week since I found out. In some ways, it flew by. In some ways, it really didn't.
When you're confronted with the idea that something could be wrong with your child, in the manner and situation that I was, there's a small period of denial, then of complete and utter fear.
Then, I realized there was nothing I could do, literally. So, it was just the waiting game.

When this morning rolled around and I realized it was finally the day to find out if I was better or not, I could hardly contain myself. I was just so scared. For me, for her.
For the past week, the idea of an early deliver was always in the back of my mind, as it's at a higher risk when you have Polyhydramnios.

Now, I'm beginning to realize that she might actually stay in there the whole time. And, really, at 30 weeks, 10 more seems like SUCH a big number. Like, 10 is the biggest number there is. Ever. SUCH A LOONG TIME.
But with all the risks of having a child before I'm full term, the possibility that she would have to stay in the hospital even after we can leave, all of this has been floating through my mind. The possible... heartbreaks that our future would hold for some extra amniotic fluid. I would so much rather her stay in there as long as she damn well pleases.
I mean, 10 more weeks, compared to all of the risks and complications and fear that comes from birthing a premature baby?
Yeah... I'll take the 10 weeks.



As of today, there are 71 more days to go. Until I see her perfect little face.




And I am so happy that she really will be perfect.