November 26, 2014
I’m having a rough go of it this week and not because things are going wrong.
Courtney had her baby on Monday. And Amy had hers last week. And I’m jealous. And I know that I shouldn’t be because I’m pregnant, too. But I am. And I also know that this is a normal feeling for women who are pregnant after a loss. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
And Thanksgiving is tomorrow. And I know it will be fine. I’m going to head out with my dad and my brother. They’ll be heading to my cousin’s early so that they can fry the turkey. This means I won’t walk into a house full of people. I think that’s part of what did me in last year. But I’m still a bit panicky about the sheer scope of it. (And, yes, we’ve had plenty of family gatherings since last Thanksgiving. And, yes, I’ve survived all of those just fine. But the memory of last Thanksgiving isn’t helping.)
And I just picked up the mail, and there was a card for me. Dr B made a donation in Sofia’s memory again this year. And that’s wonderfully sweet of her. And I really appreciate it. But it caught me off guard when I’m already teetering.
But I’ll see Paula on Friday. And we’ll be able to commiserate about the joys and terrors of being pregnant again. And it will all be good.
I just need to make it through tomorrow.