Even though I hated it, there was a part of me that felt our TEM (truly epic move) was a new beginning. This was a chance to begin something separate and apart from the tragedy that has dotted the last few years. And I felt some...relief.
It was a chance to unburden myself - I could heal and pray and....become someone again. Someone not rolling from one grief to the next, from one hurt to another. I could do more than survive.
"We are finished." we said. Finished listening to the tug in our hearts for more children, finished listening to doctors' theories, and finished praying for something that has become an impossible dream.
And now, we are pregnant again. Unintentionally, unbelievably....I don't even have the words.
I thought about not telling you.
But, I can't help you - and you can't help me - if we're not honest with one another.
I already know the likely outcome for this child - even though I pray that this one is the one that makes it. I know what physical, emotional, and spiritual pain I will endure...
But, I saw our baby today at the doctor's office.
Two arms and legs, a beautiful back and fat little tummy...
There are no words for that either. The twin strands of pain and despair that twisted themselves around my heart today. And
who will know - unless I tell them - that you can feel those in
complete equality and harmony? That you can thank God in one breath for
another day with your child, while begging in the next for just one
Or that you can find yourself with no hope - and every hope - all at once?