Missing The Innocence

A photo popped up today on my social media, taken two years ago on this day. In it, I’m fully immersed in the glory of first-time pregnancy, with an unmistakable glow lighting me up. I smiled as Chris took several photos, the sun shining in my eyes. I look at it now, longing for so many things. For the daughter we lost, for that same kind of peace of mind, for the innocence and naivety I felt during my pregnancy with Lucy. I long for the time captured in the photo when I was ignorant of what was to come less than four months after it was taken. I miss being innocent.

Losing Lucy has reshaped much of my life and who I see looking back at me in the mirror. I’ve aged, both outside and in. I’ve gained a kind of wisdom about life that I wish I could undo. I’ve become stronger, yet more vulnerable. More resilient, yet undeniably fractured. Braver, yet more fearful. I know what can be lost with no warning, no hesitation. Everything can shatter in the blink of an eye.

As I cautiously tiptoe through this pregnancy after loss, I am grateful, but I am also struggling each day to keep my terror at bay. It’s like swimming upstream against a powerful current, and sometimes, it’s tough to stay afloat in the waters of grief and fear. I’m scared that no matter how real my hope is that we’ll bring this rainbow baby home, the fear and devastation could win. The reality of our loss has changed the reality of this pregnancy. In the very same moments we held our daughter for the first time, we were simultaneously facing every parent’s worst nightmare. I’m so scared we’ll have to do it again.

When I’m not living in fear, I truly am enjoying pregnancy. I’m so thankful for another chance. I love this baby as much as I love his sister. I want so much what I cannot have: to have both of them, living and healthy, together. It’s hard to think about the idea that the four of us can never physically be together as a family; and, I don’t know if this little boy would be on the way if we’d gotten to keep our Lucy. Most of the time, I’d rather not consider that. I just know that I love both of my children immensely, and I simply wish I could have them both.

In spite of the brokenness, LOVE is the center of our little family… that love is what’s going to get us through.

April 2016, 23 weeks along with Lucy.

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *