If losing Everlee was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, making her a sister is easily the scariest.
As time wears on the anxiety crushes down on me. My chest feels tight just thinking about my time being pregnant drawing to a close. I’ve cherished my time being pregnant this time in so much more detail, but I’ve found very little joy in it – more sadness in realizing that this is possibly all I’ll ever have. I spend so much time in my day trying to visualize not only what a happy birthing experience is like, but what it might be like to leave a hospital with a living child instead of a small wooden box. I spend hours during the week sitting in my rocking chair in the baby’s room (trying to remember it’s no longer Everlee’s room) and trying to picture it as a living space instead of a museum to what could have been.
I’m now somewhere between 3 and 6 weeks away from delivery. Part of me wishes I could go to bed and wake up in 6 weeks, and the other part of me curses that part of me and wants to be able to feel these wiggles and kicks forever. This is all I ever knew of Everlee, and as much as I don’t like to think about it, part of me will wonder if this is all I’ll ever know of her sibling.
I’ve been dreaming about Everlee for the last week. Last night I dreamed that various people were insulting her memory and I was beating the crap out of them. I feel guilty that I don’t dream about this baby the way I used to dream about Everlee. I knew Everlee was a girl just because I dreamed about her from day one. I have no hints like that for this baby. Even the dreams I do have, I never see him/her. I know I have no conscious control of it, but it mothers guilt I guess. Who knew that even in my situation I’d still be worried about treating my second child different than my first. I guess I really am a mother of two now.