A year ago this week I found out that I was pregnant with Nate. Tomorrow it will be a year ago that Tom and I told my mom that I was pregnant. I wanted to tell her on June 3rd because a year before that my Nana, her mom, died. I wanted to give her some happy news that day. I remember that time so vividly. God, how things can change in a year.
Tomorrow it will be exactly four months since Nate died. Have I moved forward in these four months? I think so for the most part. I've decided just to let myself feel whatever I need to feel--just to be a little leaf, floating along in whatever direction I need to go in the moment. I've noticed that my grieving has changed. Lately, I've not been crying for two or three days--but then I'm hit with wailing, heaving fits out of nowhere. So, I'm not even going to try to predict these things--just going to let them happen.
In a little while, July to be exact, we can start trying for another baby. I've been consumed with the thought of being pregnant for four months, and now that we're getting closer to D-day, I'm getting very nervous. I've spent the last four months getting trying to get into shape so that I can have a healthy pregnancy--I've lost 60 pounds (okay, a lot of that was baby and fluid, but still) I've been working out, taking my pre-natals, eating right. I'm just getting scared--I know what can happen. I know that I'm not exempt.
Four months. I should be good at so many baby things by this point, but right now I can't even hold one properly. I don't know how to feed a baby, I don't know how to burp a baby, I don't think that I could change a diaper fast enough to avoid being peed on. I can learn this stuff fast--I just need a chance. Please.