I, honestly, am so happy. Happier than I've ever been. Avery is the most beautiful, funny, amazing baby and I could spend every minute of every day just staring at her.
But in the background, the grief nags at me. The wondering nags at me.
I've been blogging about it a lot actually, but not hitting "publish" because nothing seems to make a lot of sense.
But she looks like them.
And I wonder what it would be like if there were two. Two beautiful babies, one boy, one girl.
I wonder what it would be like if we had one year old twins AND her!?
I feel like I don't love them enough. Or think of them enough.
I feel like I owe it to her to not think of them too much. To not take away from her what I can't give to them.
Having her here makes it all too real. What I really missed out on. What I really lost. What a stupid infection takes away.
I had a c-section and I'm so tired of the comments, "Now you'll never have to know how bad labor/delivery feels!"
The thing is, how do they think they twins got out? I labored, trust me-I labored. I delivered them. The placenta. I had to dilate fully. I did it all. And my babies were immediately whisked away and I couldn't hold them until they were already pretty much dead.
How can I forgot that? I can't. But I guess everyone else can.
But I don't mean everyone else.
My friend T sent me an e-mail saying when she thinks of Avery, she thinks of them, too. I don't think a nicer thing could be said to me. I don't think anything could make me happier.
My friend K got the coolest personalized book for Avery and in it she put Sophie and Aiden's names. I cry when I read it.
My friend J gave us a onesie that says "Little Sister" on it.
I'm so very lucky. So very blessed.
But the nagging feeling is there. The grief recoils and gets ready to strike again-who knows when? Usually when I'm alone and the baby is asleep. I stare at her and I think. Really think. And it hurts so, so much. I hate this hurt. I resent this hurt.
#MicroblogMondays 143: Boots
1 day ago