I’ve been having a tough week emotionally so far. I think it’s due to the juxtaposition of being in this limbo of waiting for my period and watching two friends give birth (so happy for them, truly!) in the past two weeks. Oh, and there was the sermon Sunday about heaven that included a high chair at the supper table. Yeah. Many tears.
I’ve been feeling pessimistic. Asking myself why I’m putting myself through this, all this anticipation, building hope, preparing myself physically, daring to dream, when it could come to nothing but disappointment or heartbreak. Then I remind myself of the magic of pregnancy and the beauty of birth and miracle of a new baby in my arms. I allow myself to dream of Lexi and her new sibling together. That’s what it’s for. That reward is worth this risk.
“But,” the darker voice says, “you have Lexi. She is beautiful, sweet, healthy, and perfect. Why push your luck? Why would you even think you could be that blessed all over again? You were doing everything right last winter when you got pregnant, and look how that turned out. You worked so long on your body. Why don’t you just enjoy what you have?”
I am enjoying what I have. Every minute of every day. And I know all these thoughts, many of which I had as we started this process to concieve Lexi, are my way of protecting myself. And just like then, I’m going to press forward, one day at a time, pencil to paper, because I feel like there’s no other choice.
But I’m afraid, and my heart is hurting. I’m missing the baby who’d be almost halfway to my arms by now.
So, if you’re someone who prays, please pray for me. That my period would start (so we can get started…), that I’d be comforted and have hope, and that we can concieve, grow, and have a new baby to love in our arms very soon.