I am 20 weeks into my second pregnancy, and I haven't written a word since I found out. Written words make everything so real - so permanent, so absolute. And, because I've feared that this pregnancy would not be as permanent and real as I hoped, I've feared writing about it.
But today, I realized that I just need to. I need to process the many emotions that I've felt over the last 20 weeks. Part of me is ecstatic; I'm so excited and so grateful to have a second chance at all this. But another part of me is terrified. While I recognize that there is only a 3% chance that anything could go wrong with this pregnancy, I also realize that the improbable happens every day. The improbable seemingly happens to me all the time. Even another part of me severely misses the twins. I think about my boys all the time, and as excited as I am to meet my little daughter Sophia, I wonder if I will ever stop missing my sons.
There are not many people with whom I can talk about this. So many people are ready for me to move on - to have moved on months ago. But isn't there a way to hold onto the past and still work to move forward? Can the two work together to create a life? Isn't there some kind of balance to be struck between the children I birthed and lost and the wonderful little girl who is coming?
If there is, I haven't found it, but I hope to before I meet my little girl - I can't wait to meet her. And as Jr. High as this sounds, I hope she likes me. I know that I can't seem to get enough of her.
