I am writing this post in the waiting room of my OB/midwife office. It feels weird having an appointment today.
Before I got here, I looked at G and was reminded that if I hadn’t had my loss, I’d be chasing a 2-year-old girl around the house, not an 18-month-old boy whom I love beyond words.
So I guess this day leaves me with a bitter-sweet feeling. I’m still not over the loss of our girl in 2011. It was an early loss, but one nonetheless. It hit me hard, and while I find myself being less and less sad about it, I can tell I will be one who won’t ever “get over it” the way some people think I should. The way some women seem to have done.
And I know that is okay.
Friends and family may forget. Or pretend to forget, because HEY! I have a kid now and another on the way!
But I won’t forget. Despite moving on to build my family, I can’t seem to forget: I am 1 in 4.