I’m 16 weeks and 2 days along today. Although I’ve been nervous for most of the pregnancy, a new type of nervousness is settling in as we get closer to 20 weeks. George didn’t make it to 20. No one can promise me that this baby will. Statistically, everything should be fine, but statistics aren’t a comfort for me anymore. There’s a part of me that is just waiting for the next shoe to drop, and these next 4 weeks feel ripe with opportunity.
Even if we do make it past 20 weeks, it is a new kind of scary. I’ve never been that far along in pregnancy before. Everything will be new. I will eventually start to feel baby move, and will feel evidence of their continued growth. I will want to start talking and reading and singing to them, but all of those activities will create even more of a bond. I WANT that bond, but it scares the hell out of me too. If it hurt as much as it did to lose George, before we had those experiences, what would it do to me if something happened to this baby after?
I don’t have any answers and certainty is not possible, so all I can do is make room for uncertainty and focus on love. My love for Sara and George. My love for my family and friends and theirs for me. My love for this baby that I hope to one day have at home in my arms, healthy and alive. Being open to love means being open to loss, and I embarked upon this solo parent journey knowing it would be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done for so many reasons…but I knew (and still know) that it was the right step for me.
Tonight I’m channeling my love and my fears and my hopes into this baby blanket that Sara started for George. I want to finish it, so that George’s sibling can have a little something that both Sara and I touched and gave our energy and love to.
