About 16 months ago a beautiful pregnancy came to an end, a life gone too soon. Our first child was born, a son, our Wyatt. I was only 18 weeks pregnant. He was beautiful in every way. Perfect beyond all that is imaginable. Just not ready for this world. Not made for this world. He was never ours to have here with us.
Now, here we are in another beautiful pregnancy. 18 weeks. A whole day of being 18 weeks pregnant. This is something we've never encountered...from here on out it's unfamiliar territory. The weeks to our baby's arrival will soon be shorter than the number of weeks I am pregnant. So many wonderful things to look forward to. So far, so good.
I feel guilty, in a way. Guilty that my body couldn't do this for Wyatt. Guilty that I couldn't do anything to keep him safer. Just a little bit longer. I know I had NO control. I know that in my head. Sometimes my that hole in my heart feels differently. I know that things happened for a reason. Why? I have no idea. For a better appreciation of life and love? I don't know. I definitely do appreciate those things more. We both are appreciating many many things these days.
So, today we celebrated my body...God...life. There is still a little boy, our son, growing inside of me and getting stronger and stronger everyday. We are feeling blessed and hopeful and so very excited. The hope in our hearts grows deeper and deeper with every passing day. Every passing milestone. Excitement has begun to trump fear. Trump away!!!
We are looking ahead. One day at a time.
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