Before I was pregnant again, Avery's life felt more like a dream. Like something surreal that may or may not have actually happened. The attachment to her life was there. The love for her life was there. But the reality of how it actually felt to have Avery alive felt so distant and foggy. Sadly, her death felt so much more real. More tangible. Because it's all we had left.
But now... Being pregnant with Avery's little brother or sister brings me back to what it was like to be pregnant before. No, I don't have some kind of confusion where I feel like Avery has come back or that I have regressed to my first pregnancy. I am very aware of my two separate children, and I don't have a problem differentiating between the two. But it's been almost a year since Avery died. And it was so hard to remember even remotely what it was like to carry life when I was surrounded with death.
The nausea. The exhaustion. The fear of first trimester miscarriage. Feeling nervous over every tiny pain. I did all that with Avery too. So afraid I could lose her. I never thought I actually would after I got through to that second trimester into the so-called "safe zone." All that to say that I remember more clearly now how it felt to have Avery here with me and to think that she was going to be here with us one day. That her arrival would be marked with joy instead of marred with devastation.
Being pregnant again makes me miss Avery more. She should be here to meet her coming sibling. In all actuality, this baby would not be on the way if Avery was here. Maybe that's part of the master plan. I know Avery gave her life to teach us what is wrong with my body so none of her other siblings would have to die for nothing. Maybe there's a huge purpose for this new baby. I don't know. I just know that everything is in God's hands. And I'm grateful that it's not in mine.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
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