color hearts

Let’s skip forward from my previous post TTC. I and my man TTC’d quite nicely and I am now in the first few weeks of my rainbow pregnancy.

As I write this I am nearing the end of my first trimester. And it has taken me this long to figure out how I feel.

At first, I thought I was having a hard time connecting with this baby.

I remember my first pregnancy, feeling like the whole world took on a different color because of the crazy miracle that was happening inside my uterus. I felt like people could walk by me and just tell that I was carrying a small little life, perfect and amazing, growing inside my body.

I remember with my second baby, being so cocky. So certain of Life, so sure of myself and the of coursity of pregnancy and birth and motherhood. I felt like I knew it all, like I knew exactly how it would go. And luckily for naïve little me, that time it did.

I remember being pregnant with my daughter. I remember that first trimester, before we knew her body was not growing as expected, before we knew she would die. It had been three years since I’d last been newly pregnant, and once again, I was floating on air. I had round the clock morning sickness and I felt amazing. I was so happily aware of what a miracle it was to be pregnant. It felt like a privilege to be growing life inside me. Everything was love and magic those first few months. And when things stopped being predictable and perfect, there was sadness. There was also gratefulness, for having this baby, right then and there, alive inside me. We treasured every moment we had together. We were lucky to feel her love and to get the chance to sing her songs and take photographs with Luna alive in my belly. It was a time of sorrow and love and sadness and fear and we were so grateful to be together.

And now, little rainbow. I was expecting some fear. I was told I would “lose the ignorant bliss of previous pregnancies”. Sure, I’d give up ignorant bliss. I trust life and I live in the moment. I am a “right here, right now” kind of girl. I live in the present and I accept life for what it is. I can also take pretty much everything, apparently. I mean, my daughter died, and here I am, still standing. I thought that if I ever lost a child I would shrivel up from the inside and my body would slowly smoke out into nothingness. I thought living life after losing a child was selfish and impossible. But because of my child I live life more fully, I love deeper. Her life and her death are a great gift in my life.

Don’t I sound wise and enlightened beyond anything? I thought I was. And then this new baby WHAM! Kicking my butt. Giving me the most powerful lesson in humility and shaking me up.

Because what I feel now, above anything else, a zillion times more strongly than fear, even, is sadness.

I am sad.

I am very sad.

I am huddled inside myself and deeply sad.

And I can’t make heads or tails of it.

So I decided to embrace my sadness. And accept that I have no idea why I feel this way.

I hope, with all my heart, that by doing this I will be able to make it through the sadness.

I hope that there is something beautiful and warm on the other side.

I hope I get to stop being sad soon. (I liked being happy.)

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