While we were chatting, Older Nephew's Wife mentioned to SIL that she was going to her cousin's baby shower the next day (Sunday/yesterday). Then I caught the ominous words: "...high-risk pregnancy... the baby is small... issues..."
SIL rushed to assure her that the doctors had told her Older Nephew was going to be a small baby -- and he was born at more than 8 pounds (and is now 37 years old and more than 6 feet tall).
Older Nephew's Wife wasn't sure exactly what the problem is, but she knew that it's a high-risk pregnancy, there are problems, and not simply a matter of the baby measuring small for dates.
I've met this cousin a couple of times -- a friendly, vivacious young woman, who bonded with dh over their shared love of the Pittsburgh Steelers. I asked what hospital she was going to have the baby at (ONW wasn't sure).
After that, I kept my mouth shut, and the conversation moved on to other topics.
I don't want to be the dark shadow, the voice of doom. And so often, these things DO turn out all right. Most people do get their ultimate happy ending.
But I'm living proof that sometimes (more often than most people think or want to imagine) they don't. And it's not an experience I would wish upon my worst enemy.
She will be in my thoughts until I know the baby is here and both are fine.
You can find more of this week's #MicroblogMondays posts here.
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