And any time you feel the pain, Hey Jude, refrain
Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders
For well you know that it’s a fool who plays it cool
By making his world a little colder

I am a little bit of an emotional trainwreck this pregnancy. I felt so smug during Devin’s pregnancy that obviously pregnancy hormones don’t affect me very much – oh, I had my days, but no more than usual. But this time? This time I kind of feel like I’m on a bungee cord and I keep being snapped out over a canyon. Now I can’t rightly tell if it’s the hormones running wild, if it’s the previous loss, or maybe it’s just me – at this point it’s pretty hard to separate things out into neat little boxes of emotion. When I get upset I tend to get upset in a sobbing, losing-my-grip kind of way. And it is always over something that is most certainly not a major disaster. I end up feeling slightly foolish and more than a little disoriented. I mean, really, if these little things are the worst things I have to worry about right now then I’m not doing bad at all.

::

Little darling, it’s been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it’s all right

I would say that from what I have observed with my friends that it is a normal in your second pregnancy to fear that you won’t love the baby as much as you did your first. I’d say this is especially true of those of us who don’t have a baby here with us, just memories that – as memories do – seems so pure and perfect. You are so desperate for a baby to love, to fill that void that grief now lives in – but at the same time you are so very scared that the new baby will fill that void. How could anyone else live up to the standards that your baby set… but what if you forget? It’s a path full of shadows and surprizes.

I can say is that I love my daughter more than I thought possible – as her own person, as a thing separate from my son. I expected to feel moments of confusion, of deja vu, of thinking I was pregnant with Devin again… but it never happened. For all that this pregnancy has been similar to my first one it has been a very different journey. I am a different person now than when I was pregnant with Devin. I still mourn that, I still mourn who I was, but who I am now isn’t bad either. And this child is different, too. Maybe it’s a lot of projection and anticipation, but her patterns, her movements, they’re all so different from Devin’s. She’s made the distinction clear from the start.

I miss my baby boy as much as ever – he will always leave a hole that cannot be filled. Every kick I feel from my daughter gives me joy and yet reminds me of what I have lost. I don’t take as much time to be sad anymore, however, because I have something so good and happy to spend my time on – and I choose to remember him by celebrating her. I frequently go through all the pictures and files I kept from him, comparing and remembering. I feel like being pregnant again has helped me remember those times without the stabbing pain of something lost and unable to be found. The only thing I have not done yet is read my journal entries from that first pregnancy; I wrote with such innocence, and that is something I have not and cannot get back.

Having a little girl has taken some getting used to, after the time with Devin spent anticipating a boy. I was ready to let him go, but I don’t think I was ready to let go the idea of a boy. Now I find myself getting used to all the pink, slowly relaxing into my new role. It is different, certainly, and I still have my moments in stores when I turn left instead of right – I still stop at a cute boy outfit, lightly touch it and whisper how cute it is, then turn my back and walk away before the tears start. At the same time I’m looking forward to having a little girl. I think about seeing her, my little girl, alive and being held in her daddy’s arms, and my heart fills with joy.

(Her baby bedding)