Nan, Bree, Tiffany, Rachel, Holly, Tina-so many more-this time of year we are missing so many babies.
There are so many children that should be here that aren't. It's every time of year, though.
We are always missing them.
My friend had her twins. Peyton and Parker. They came early, but at 36 weeks they had no NICU time and are already home. I only know they are home because of a mutual friend. I'm too afraid to ask about the birth story. I'm too afraid to ask how it's going.
I'm afraid to know. I'm afraid to know that they're not getting any sleep. That breastfeeding two babies is incredibly hard. That they are going through SO many diapers and washing seventeen loads of laundry a day.
I am really struggling with this, but it's just there, just at the brim-I haven't been able to let it out yet. I haven't been able to really let this wash over me and let me truly accept.
Avery has a cold. When she has the sniffles, I panic. I swear I've read stories about SIDS where they start with a virus.
I wonder when, if ever, I will put Avery to sleep and not immediately start to worry that she will never wake up.
All of this has nothing to do with the other and everything to do with the other.
I'm lost. Wandering through a fog. Stressed. Sad.
Happy. So incredibly blessed.
Same old, Christy. Same old.
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