a day late

Yesterday I was preparing my thoughts on the last four months of growth since losing my unborn daughter. I was writing down the differences between immediately after, a month after and four months later.

Yesterday I would have honestly admitted that I can now feel true joy for friends who are pregnant, I can feel completely content about not being pregnant, I can look through my Ravelry patterns for baby blankets and not feel pangs of sadness, but instead feel truly eager to start making something homemade and lovely for upcoming baby showers.

Yesterday, I would have told you that I really do not want to be pregnant this year. I need a break from change. I need to aid my children back on track to stability and growth. I need to invest deeply into myself and my marriage. I need to remember the basics before I start adding in another player to my game of Double Dutch.

Yesterday, I finished my day with a glass of Chardonnay and yummy buttered popcorn and stayed up late watching White Collar.

Today, I was late. Late in writing those feelings, penning those thoughts, and in getting up.

Today, I took a pregnancy test, because my cycle also was late.

Today, I discovered there is life in my womb.

Today, I remembered all the things I love about being pregnant. I started scribbling down lists of to-dos and "don't forgets" and long lists of how this pregnancy, this baby, this delivery would be different from the others. And, in light of my new resolution, how I was going to keep up caring for myself this year. How I was going to take time away, refresh my soul, encourage my spirit, care for my body and love myself through through the growth of another child inside me.

Today my mind was spinning. I caught myself in doubt and moments of disapointment in myself for what I left undone or how my body still healing hadn't completed the tasks I had laid out for her before giving her the challenging task of bearing another young. But I silenced my hate. I spoke to my young and I told her she was welcome. I whispered a thank you to the Being who placed her inside of me and realized this beautiful opportunity for my family to grow. I let my husband sing the song he played the day we were married and I took my children out for ice cream with sprinkles.

Tonight, I drink chamomile tea, a tall quart of Berkey water and a handful of raw almonds, I'm going to read in bed and go to bed early. And I'm going to dream of a tiny little babe with curly red hair and teeny little fingers and toes and unblinking eyes that look into my heart and remind me to trust and love myself.

CLTD