Everyone I read has said what can be said, but better than I, about the horrible tragedy last week. All I can do is keep those families in my thoughts and hug my little first grader a little tighter. I wish the world was not such an ugly place to send such a fragile and bright light into.
I have just over 5 weeks to my due date. I'm finding it harder and harder to believe I will really take a baby home, alive and breathing. She kicks so hard sometimes I am amazed a body part doesn't just burst through my stomach, but I still can't believe she will come home with me. We haven't picked a name yet. Sunshine had hers by 22 weeks. We waited for the gender to pick a name for Aiden, but by then we already knew he would leave us. We picked his name in a hurry so he wouldn't die without one. This time I swore she would have a name as soon as possible, but I just couldn't seem to do it. It smacks of too much hope, or as if we are daring the universe to take her, as if a name decided makes her more real. But not having a name feels like a rejection. A part of me exists that still can't attach because I don't want to be hurt like that again. But I know it doesn't matter. If the worst should happen I will be just as devastated. The only difference this time is that it won't be such a profound shock. I am no longer naive, and much less optimistic. Watching the news only confirms my belief that nothing is fair or right and you can lose it all anytime. I don't know why we keep trying. All I know is that I will.
Keep kicking, baby girl. There is still some beauty in this world and I want so much to show it to you.