I seem to get these flashes of hope when I least expect it. They come out of nowhere, just like the horrible flashbacks I sometimes get. These flashes of hope are the exact opposite of the flashbacks of pain and despair. A yin and an yang of emotions. For a long time I only got the negative flashbacks, but now it seems that hope is doing it's best to bring balance to my grief. So even though these flashes of hope come at at the strangest of times, I'm trying my best to embrace them. Because they sure are a lot more pleasant than the painful ones.
This time around they came in the form of a bikini wax. Yes, a bikini wax. That modern day form of torture where we lay on a table with our legs akimbo and allow some sadistic spa employee to apply wax all over our nether regions and then rip out all the hair. Although I must say that after everything I've endured in the way of infertility treatments, a bikini wax can seem like a walk in the park.
|Not an actual photo of me.|
It was actually a nice distraction to watch my belly dancing around while the woman was applying and ripping off the wax. She thought it was funny as well so it gave us both something to chat about. Even when I had my eyes closed, I could still feel Frostina wiggling around like crazy. It made the whole experience much more enjoyable, well as enjoyable as waxing can be.
On my way back home I was struck with a thought. I had many bikini waxes during my pregnancy with my son. Right up until a week before we lost him in fact. In all that time I don't ever remember him moving around during a wax. Not once.
That got me thinking about a question The Hubby has been asking me lately. He wanted to know if I think Frostina is more active than her brother was. I've never been able to answer that question because to be honest, I really don't remember. I was so blissfully happy after my 20 week scan and so sure he would be born alive that I really didn't pay attention to his movements.
I think that's why I didn't notice when they started decreasing, or when they stopped completely. Because it wasn't something I put any focus on. Because it wasn't important. Because of course he was going to be born alive. I had nothing to worry about.
So this was a direct comparison. A comparison between Frostina and her older brother. One that I could vividly remember and compare properly. I was caught by surprise when Frostina kicked during my waxing because this was something her brother never did. Which means that she must be more active than he was.
A comparison that gives me hope!
And if she's more active than he was then that must be because she is healthier than he was. More specifically, her placenta must still be hanging in there. Because the reason my son didn't make it was due to being starved of nutrients and space by his placenta. He couldn't move around as much because his placenta was failing. So if Frostina is so much more active then it must be because hers is fine.
We've been having Frostina and her placenta monitored very closely this pregnancy with nothing but positive feedback. But I've still had lingering doubts and fear. After all, everything was fine with my son,,,, until it wasn't. So I'm not entirely reassured by good feedback.
But Frostina kicking me like crazy during a bikini wax, something her brother never did, was different. Even though it's nothing that can be measured by science or medicine, it felt more real to me. It felt like proof that she is in fact better off than her brother was. That perhaps she is going to make it out of my body alive and healthy.
And that my friends is how I found hope in a bikini wax!
*Image from here.