Time is drawing close to the gestational mile marker when Wendell died, a little over nine short (and long) months ago. It is hard to approach this mark. I fear that whatever silent hand took Wendell away will also steal Virgil away, secretly and without my knowledge. Yes, we have specialist doctors who are checking up on Virgil every other week and on the ultrasound machine we are able to watch his amazing flexibility as he stretches his leg out straight until his toes are practically touching his forehead. We can see his heart, all four chambers intact and working hard, pumping blood out to his body, his bones measuring what they should, his organs all intact and the size they need to be. So we have that reassurance twice a month but what if something happens in between ultrasounds? Or in spite of the fact that there is nothing obviously wrong? There were no warning signs to alert us that Wendell struggled, only his stillness to alert me that anything was not as it should be. And of course by that time it was far too late for anything to be done.
If you're the praying sort, keep us in your prayers as this time approaches. We don't know when Wendell actually died - it could have been any point between 26 and 28 weeks, so that two week period will be a tough one to walk through and it approaches quickly. This Sunday, June 28, marks 26 weeks of gestation for Virgil. It is heavy, feeling fear about my baby's survival. I hope we can breathe a little easier once the 28 mark passes and Virgil surpasses his brother Wendell in age.