Where I Am Right Now – 11 Months Later

The flashbacks are like a movie playing in my mind most days. 3D has nothing on my memories. I’m taken straight back to February.  11 short months ago. I remember what the cramps felt like. I remember curling into a ball in my bed begging the pain to stop. I remember my best friend calling and telling me that she thought I was in labour. I remember the look on the doctor’s face. I remember the look on my dad’s face when I got off the elevator after the ultrasound confirmed my worst nightmare (the thought is bringing tears to my eyes as I write this).  I remember wailing for her, and apologizing to everyone for being unable to do what a mother is supposed to. I remember not wanting to tell anyone what had happened. I remember holding her tiny 5lb1oz body for the first and last time. I remember them wheeling her crib out of the room, knowing I would never hold her again.

11 months seems like it has passed in the blink of an eye, and crawled by, all at the same time.

When I found out I was pregnant again, I knew it wouldn’t be an easy nine months. Between worrying about people’s reactions (because contrary to a lot of opinion, this pregnancy won’t ‘fix’ me) and constant concern over what’s happening inside of my stretching stomach, it’s been extraordinarily draining and stressful. And I still have 21 weeks to go.

People tell me it’s going to be ok. They’re trying to be reassuring; they tell me to think positive. But it doesn’t help. I got a lot of “this Christmas will be hard, but next Christmas will be different”. But how do they know? It’s hard for my mind not to wander to that dark place. Because in my experience, when I’m pregnant,  the baby dies. I don’t know what a happy ending feels like.

Everlee is a big sister. These words make me weak in my knees. So many emotions. More than I am able to express in any sort of tangible way. I am so excited. But I am so incredibly scared. What if it happens again? What if something goes wrong? What if people forget about Everlee? That’s the big one – The fear that I haven’t been able to put into words. That’s the reason I haven’t been able to write much. My excitement is overwhelming, but my heart aches from missing my little girl.

While there are no guarantees, no promises, I know this baby is a gift – My very own rainbow. My rainbow that deserves its own excitement, of hopes and dreams.  I have been repressing all of my excitement out of fear. This baby deserves better than that, and that’s not how I want to remember Everlee either, with fear. Not everyone gets a rainbow, and I have to be thankful for that, thankful that my little girl gets to be a big sister.

Happy 11 month birthday, beautiful little girl. 

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Fireworks and Rainbows

The worst year of my life is over. A new year has begun and I find myself in a very similar position that I was this time last year: pregnant. 13 and a half weeks pregnant to be exact. Over the moon happy, and more scared than I have ever been in my life.

I have been avoiding my blog since I found out, because I have been so scared to openly admit to the world (and myself) that Everlee’s little brother or sister is nestled quietly in my belly. But with a new year comes new hope. After every great storm, there is a rainbow. I am so grateful to be pregnant with my rainbow baby.

I’ve never had holiday season like this one. So grateful for the baby I’m carrying, and longing for the one that was living inside of me a year ago. Celebrating this baby that I am getting closer to bringing home, while still mourning the one I’ve lost. I’ve never had a Christmas that made me cry tears of joy and sorrow simultaneously. I didn’t realize how much sadness such a beautiful Christmas gift would bring.

2013 was hell in its most pure and raw form. But I am so thankful for your love, your kindness, and above all else your beautiful spirits that have allowed me to find my own spirit that I had so feared I lost in the beginning of 2013. In the greatest sadness, I found the greatest love. I’ll never forget the lessons 2013 has taught me, but I am not sad to see the year go.

2014 will bring many doctors appointments, lots of bed rest, a lot of anxiety and hopefully in June, a little healthy and alive brother or sister for my darling little girl.

Happy new year everyone. Cross your fingers and your toes and raise a glass. Here’s to hopefully happier days ahead.

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