So let's briefly catch up. My kid is rocking school. My husband is still busy with work. My husband and I got busy and made another baby. Any questions?
I'm processing now. You don't have to read. It's more for me than for the readers. This place and running helped me process my grief. Although it's been 6 months and although I am pregnant again, I am still grieving.
I got pregnant about 6 weeks after my miscarriage. My doctor advised us to wait, but we just let things happen. We knew what unprotected sex would lead to, and even after a mature conversation, we still decided to let things be. I honestly didn't believe it would happen so soon. It took 9 months to get pregnant with our miscarried baby. When I found out this time, I was overwhelmed. Scared. The first trimester was spent waiting to lose the baby. Once I got to the second trimester, I felt a little better, but would still hold my breath every morning going to the bathroom to see any sign of loss. Now that I feel the baby move, I pay close attention to the daily movement. I am trying to enjoy it, but the loss of our last baby has made me doubt. If we would lose this child, I imagine that I would be finished expanding out family. The heartbreak of losing two children would be almost unbearable.
I have never replaced the baby I lost. I think of him (for lack of not knowing the gender, I will use he) almost daily. This morning, I was in the shower remembering the day that I had my D&C to remove the dead fetus. I remember the fact that somewhere my fetus was buried nearby Provena Hospital. And I was thinking that it was only 6 weeks conceived when it died, even though in my mind it made it to 10 weeks. I barely knew him, but he was my child. I felt very confused this morning because without the loss of our last child, our Bub, we would not have our baby now. I don't cry anymore, but I still feel the sadness.
Curious J renamed this baby Bathtub Bub. He was explaining to his grandma that we have two Bubs. One is with "God" and died. The other one is in my belly. It's hard to not think about Bub; my child uses some form of the name to identify the new baby. I fought the name change at first, for selfish reasons. There was only one Bub to me. But I'm the grownup and needed to deal with my issues. I needed to help J cope with all the change. If that meant changing the name to what he liked, than that was it.
Ok. I'm done for now. I needed to "say" it, whether there is an audience or not. I miss you Bub. And please body, god, the universe, science, or whoever else I should "pray" to, please let this baby be healthy and live.
