29 weeks

When I first found I was pregnant with Sam, I started counting down the days. I figured out my due date (September 25th) and started trying to shave off the time until I would have my precious baby in my arms. My other babies were born early (3 and a half weeks for Allie and a month for Jake), so I automatically figured this baby should be here at the beginning of September. I even made a plan with my doctor to shoot for 9-9-09.

As each week passed I ticked off the days on the callendar. Each day was a day closer to delivery. When people asked how far along I was, I would round up to the nearest month or week. The time passed so slowly.
All of that changed when Sam was diagnosed with HLHS. All of the sudden I don't want the weeks to pass. I don't want September to get here.

Right now, Sam is safe. Right now, his little body doesn't even know that his heart isn't formed right. Right now he can grow, he can kick, he can live without pain.

Time passes, even if I don't want it to. Each day brings us one day closer to even more uncertainty than we feel right now. Each day brings us one day closer to the time time we have to face things I can't even think about without sadness.

I am 29 weeks now. I hate to even put that in writing. Even though it feels like an eternity since we found out about Sam's heart, his time of safety ticks by faster than I want it to. If I could, I would stop time for us. Then I could continue to enjoy each time I felt him move. I'm not that uncomfortable yet, so if I could pick a stage to be stuck in, this stage is perfect. (I guess I could bend over with more ease 4 weeks ago, so if I could choose, I'd choose 25 weeks to be stuck in).
Anyway, it doesn't work that way. I guess I should stop wishing it could. I can stop wishing, but I can't stop hating the count down to September.