A Fantasy/Fiction Nerd's Headspace

I recently rewatched all of the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

May was Mourning Month. June was about education and gathering resources and pulling ourselves together. July was full of joy. August was anxiety. So far, September has been sickness and sleep-deprivation. Sickness and a brand new stage of parenting: toddler tantrums.

So this month I've spent a lot of time at home, not able to go out, and watching TV.

The sickness and sleep-deprivation and temper-tantrums from our two year old are undoubtably affecting a large percentage of my mood this month, but I think some credit for my saddness and exhaustion must be given to my journey with Abigail.

We are now in the home stretch. Tomorrow I will be 35 weeks pregnant. We still have not heard from our MFM team about how their consult meeting went and so we haven't heard how many weeks we have left with Abigail. Do we have 2 more weeks? Some of them want to induce me at 37 weeks. Do we get 4 more weeks? The majority seem to want 39 weeks - they say that's proven to be the best chance of avoiding stillbirth. And honestly it's just hospital policy. Or could we possibly have 6 weeks left? Michael and I have asked for November 1st - 41 weeks + 1 day.

Regardless of what was decided in that meeting (and if we decide to cooperate and show up to an induction!), we have 2-6 weeks left.

What would you do if you knew you only had 6 weeks left with your child?

I've been thinking about that question a lot.

I'm in a hard place now. I simultaneously want time to stand still. I want to give Abby as much time to live as I can. And yet, I'm so ready for this to be "over." And while cognitively I know there is no shame in admitting this, a part of me feels so guilty for wanting to be "done."

Early on when I first was researching anencephaly and joined my support group I came across a few stories where women said things like they wished they could just stay pregnant forever. That they couldn't bear for it to end because they knew that then their baby would be gone. I thought then that I wouldn't have the same feelings. And I don't. I truly do not enjoy pregnancy. That hasn't changed but I wish it had. I understand and admire those women who made that confession.

I am so exhausted all the time. I can't sleep enough. I'm uncomfortable all the time. I want my body back to myself. When Abigail is active I feel physically weird and uncomfortable. When she is still I'm begging God for her to move.

Today I was thinking about all of this - how I'm feeling phyiscally and emotionally - and an analogy came to mind. I told you I recently rewatched all of LOTR. This probably won't make any sense to you if you're unfamiliar with the story but here it goes.

I feel like Frodo at the part where he and Sam have finally made it to the bottom of the slopes of Mount Doom. Maybe just before that. Frodo is carrying the ring of power and has been for months. His mission is to destroy it in the fires of Mount Doom - the only place where it can be destroyed. For him, this is the only option. And for whatever reason, it has to be him - this task was appointed to him and if he cannot do it, apparently no one can. In the home stretch of his journey, the ring has suddenly become almost unbearably heavy. He simultaneously MUST make it to his destination and CANNOT go on.

He's accompanied by Sam who is cheering him on. There's a part where Sam is trying to help Frodo remember good memories of home and Frodo tells Sam he can't remember the sights, sounds, and smells Sam is trying to conjure up. For him there's only darkness and fire and pain. One of my favorite lines comes soon after this moment, when Sam says "Come on, Mr. Frodo. I can't carry it for you. But I can carry you!" (I about cry every time, even when I'm not pregnant!)

That's where I am.

Abigail is not a burden. She's not evil. She will on no account be destroyed. Very imperfect analogy. Abigail is an image-bearer. She is a blessing. She is my pride and joy.

But we have been appointed to carry her. Specifically, I have been appointed to carry a princess for heaven. And my mission is to keep her safe and loved and deliver her into the arms of Jesus to take to heaven's nursery when He says it is time.

It's almost time. We're nearing the end of our journey and there is a heaviness on me that I can barely stand beneath any longer. I'm like Frodo, getting up to take a few drunken steps only to collapse again. Or is it way too presumptuous to compare myself to Jesus? I think of how He stumbled more than once under the weight of all He carried with Him on the road to Golgotha.

My world has become very narrow. My thoughts and emotions are all turning inward now. I'm struggling to be able to spare any energy for others outside of Michael and Theodore.

Yesterday Michael and I tried to go on a date. We went back to Amazing Grace Ultrasound thinking we'd watch Abby for half an hour and then afterward go do something fun together. We didn't get any pictures at all of Abby - she was asleep and facing my back. (They're actually letting us come back again for free because they really truly got nothing) We got in the car afterward and neither of us could really come up with anything fun to do.

Michael is so loving and he told me he wanted to do something "Marcy." He asked me if I could do anything what I would do. And truly all I could think was "sleep" and "watch Abby move." I'm in that Frodo-nearing-Mount-Doom head space now. (We did end up taking a couple of dear friends out to dinner and that brought me joy but it took awhile to come up with that idea)

I don't think this head space is wrong or unnatural. I don't even think it's preventable. And I don't think it will be going away until after we've said goodbye to Abby for the last time at her memorial service. I do think it's temporary.

After the ring is destroyed, there's a moment where Frodo and Sam think it's basically the end of the world or at least their lives. They're sitting together and Frodo says in the biggest tone of relief "It's gone. It's over." And then he tells Sam he can see the Shire. He can remember. It's like he can breathe again and feel grateful to Sam for all he's done. He can hold Sam while Sam cries for his own trials.

Again. Abby isn't a burden. But there is an emotional burden. The weight of this diagnosis is real. And I'm ready for that to be gone. Abigail will endure. I believe Christ has made a way for her and that her life is secure in Him. Even when we have to tell people she has died and others will talk about how she is gone, we believe she will be alive and safe with Him. What will truly be dead and gone is anencephaly.

We're not there yet. We will be. But today, we're nearing the end.

We're about to announce to the students in my church's student ministry that I will be going on maternity leave for a period of time. We don't know how long that will last yet. But I know it's time. We're also about to stop RSVPing to events for some time and friends and family will just have to accept that the Judds may or may not be showing up. We can't predict how stable or available we will be in the coming weeks/months.

I'm not making an effort to respond to emails, texts, FB messages...you name it. Many people have been so supportive and understanding - even telling me in their messages that they don't expect a response. I'm so grateful for that kindness.

Everyone is asking how to help. Here are the ideas I have:

• Please pray. IDK yet what a specific list looks like, but I'll get with Michael about that and we'll make a post to let you know.

• Meals are always helpful

• There's a GoFundMe set up for us that you can donate to. Our medical deductible is just about met. The funeral is covered. The one thing we financially will need now is space for Michael to take time off work. He has the freedom to take as much time as he needs, but that time is unpaid and we will have bills to pay while we are grieving.

• Today I faced a lot of "how are you"s at church. I think I've left the season where my emotions change every couple of hours. The answer to "how are you" is probably not going to change anymore for some time. The answer is "surviving," "doing my bet" or avoiding your question. Today someone greeted me by simply saying "It's good to see you." The relief I felt was palpable. There was absolutely no pressure on me to reciprocate conversation or talk about how I am. So if you want to know how I am, I'm asking that you look here on the blog. Wait for me to say I want to talk about how I am. If you want to greet me, say something like "it's good to see you" or "I'm glad you're here" and give me a hug. If you're long distance, you can send me a heart or a quick "praying for you today." All of those are safe and I won't avoid them. But forgive me...I will probably try to dodge your "how are you"s right now.

• I don't know everything I need. Usually I only think of an answer hours after you ask. Hopefully that's okay too.

I'm embracing the limitations of this season. Right now, I need to be at home with Michael and Theodore. I need to weather the end of this journey with Michael. Kind of like Frodo and Sam branched off from the rest of their fellowship of friends to complete the journey on their own. It's not just me and Michael in reality - we have a small inner circle that will see us through to the very end of this journey - but as far as my own energies and efforts are concerned it is just me, Michael, Theo, and Abby. My reciprocal energies in service and friendship aren't there.

There will be reunion. We will come to a new normal. I will not leave student ministry forever and I fully trust I will have the ability to be a good, reciprocating and initiating friend once again.

For now, I'll update you from the blog. I'll spend time with my little family of four. And I ask for your grace and prayers as we enter the home stretch of this journey.

Photo Credit: Kelly Laramore Photography