I don't trust.
I don't trust even myself.
Right now I want SO badly to trust my body. To trust that it will do what it is supposed to do.
To trust that this baby will get to come home alive and live with me.
But it's so hard to trust when you've seen it all go bad.
Tomorrow I will be 23 weeks and 3 days pregnant. The day I delivered the twins. It seems surreal. I can't believe that while I'm counting down the days now to one year since they were born, I'm counting UP the days of this pregnancy.
I've said before that it seems absolutely ridiculous to be worried about this day. To think that something tragic will happen again at 23.3. It doesn't make sense.
On the other hand, I find it very...unsettling that I have a very good idea of what this baby inside of me looks like right now.
I don't trust myself. I can't. But I have to keep believing. Keep believing that I will make it one more day, and then the next, and then the next.
And hopefully the next.
#MicroblogMondays 143: Boots
1 day ago