Deep Breath

So much going on, it's a little surprising there hasn't been more written here. I guess it's hard to put it all into words because rehashing it, even in my head, makes me a little crazy.

My sister, mother of the cutest baby in the entire universe, is due to have another amazing child in November. She was in the hospital yesterday though, because she started having contractions. My father called to tell me, which is odd, because my sister is my best friend. She calls me always, about every little detail. When she was pregnant with Lillian, we had a very active dialog about every weird ache and gas bubble...quite frankly, some of it was enough to make me doubt ever having kids of my own. This time around, it's been slightly less graphic, mostly because she has been through it, and though it's all still bizarre and amazing, it's less shocking for her.

So I knew, when it wasn't her on the other end of the phone informing me of the hospital stay, that it was serious. She was scared. When I did get in touch with her (about .3 seconds after hanging up with my dad), she was being all brave and strong. But like I said, she is my best friend, and I heard the fear behind her sturdy words. It is way too early for this kid to be born. To make matters worse, my sister is a NICU nurse, so she sees every worst case scenario there is with very premature babies. These are not the images that comfort you when you're having contractions 3 months early.

They stopped the contractions, she was told she'd be on some form of bedrest for the rest of the pregnancy, and she didn't say much else.

Today, the phone rang and when I saw her number, I literally dropped what I was doing, almost burning off a toe. Thank God for steel toe boots. At the other end was exactly what I expected from our first conversation. She was sobbing. A worried mommy, paralyzed by all of the what-ifs of this little life. She also has a year and a half old little princess who needs care and attention, and for the first time in Lillian's life, my sister cannot pick her up or scurry after her as she goes exploring. It is both frustrating and frightening, and add all of those crazy pregnancy hormones, and what you get is a heartbreaking storm of emotion. It made me want to jump on a plane, abandon everything here and just go. Go take care of my niece so my sister doesn't have to worry. Go make her feel better by just letting her cry on my shoulder. Go fetch things for her while she is where she should be, where she needs to be...sitting on her ass and not moving.

I can't make things ok for her. I cannot fix every feeling she is having, and all of those emotions are completely valid. All I can do is reassure her that Lillian was also premature. She was just over 4 lbs when she was born. She is now the healthiest chubby little toddler, and I know that this baby, even if she is early, will also be fine. I have to believe that, because the alternative is just not ok.

I'm thankful that she married a man who will dote on her and who will tell her all of the things I want to. He will bend over backwards and work his ass off so that she can take it easy like she needs to. Most importantly, he will make sure she does just that, because making my sister sit still is a lot like trying to stop a tidal wave with a paper cup. He will be a great daddy, making up for every toss in the air my sister cannot give to Lillian. He will also tell me if and when it is time for me to hop on that plane, and I'll find a way.

If you've gotten through all of that rattling on, you totally deserve a giggle. My most favorite blogger ever has graced us with a guest post over at Obituarium, and though it deals with something equally terrifying, he will make you laugh about it. Because he's awesome like that.