This sucks.

I miss you so much today.

I got diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes today, which doesn't surprise me. My pregnancy with your brother has been endlessly difficult; from Hyperemesis Gravidarum to early Braxton Hicks to the pain in my hips and back, not to even mention all the fear and pain and anxiety that he'd be with you instead of with us. That's still there actually.

I try so hard to be bright and cheery about it; a lot of the time I fool even myself. Maybe I'm not fooling myself; maybe most of the time I am that glowing, bright pregnant lady.

Today I just feel like I'm slumped. I want to be on the other end of this. I want to stop feeling nauseous, worried, fretful, aching, sore, tired...I don't want your brother to come early or anything, but I sure wouldn't be all that unhappy if I wasn't able to work anymore--at least then I'd be off my aching, miserable feet.

This is one of those days where I feel the unfairness of having to go through an entire second pregnancy. I should already be done with this. I should be holding you, soothing you while you're cutting teeth, seeing you laugh.

And I'm so scared, so almost paralyzingly afraid that we'll lose your brother even this late, both because I can't bear the thought of losing another son and because the thought of yet another pregnancy makes me feel beyond hopeless.

I wish I could hold you. I wish this was over so I could hold your brother.

I wish.

Bookmarks

I just noticed that all of the bookmark buttons across the top of my internet window have shifted. For the past year, they've been an assortment of support sites, blogs and message boards. Now, there's a mix of news blogs and baby- and birth-related links.

I don't really know how I feel about you being farther and farther from me. We've scheduled our hospital tour, we're filling out birth plans, the maternity leave paperwork has been mailed, and no doubt within a month the bag will be packed. All things we never made it to with you.

Should I be sad? Glad? Grateful? Mostly I'm just bewildered.

And tired.

Altered Perceptions

I found this Google ad, and it's so cute and sweet it made me tear up the whole time. Happy tears. But then it gave me the creeps.



It's the way the babies stop crying and there's silence and then the dad types "How soon can we try again?"

I know it's just supposed to be sweet and happy, and that having these babies makes him so happy he just wants more. I know, I get it.

But seriously, the first time I saw it I thought the babies died.

This shit kind of stays with you, doesn't it.

Birthdays and Honeymoons.

So I feel like a terrible mother to you. I didn't have anything to write on your birthday. I haven't had anything to write since then either. It isn't like I don't think of you, or don't care. It's just...I don't even know what to say. Your brother is taking up more and more space in my body, and the farther along we get with him, the more he is moving to the center of our world.

And I feel vaguely like I'm failing you, even though I know that my time mothering you has past already. You feel farther and farther away...I can't think about where I was a year ago right now. That horrible empty ache that was my constant companion.

Your brother has been with me longer than you were. He is big enough now to distort the (increasingly enormous) roundness of my belly. Strong enough now that the impact of his kicks can be painful as well as startling. He kicks in places you never could reach. His presence is constant now.

Daddy and I took our honeymoon last week. I kind of expected to have moments of really missing you--I mean, we were meant to take almost this exact trip exactly one year ago. And yet...though you came up in conversation and certainly were not forgotten, it was like this trip was just for your daddy and brother and me.

I guess that's how life is supposed to go on. You stay the same and we keep walking. But it's hard to grasp. I feel at least as though I should feel more upset by it.

Time can be kind.