After Stevie died, I swore that if I was ever pregnant again, I would do things differently. I wouldn't get my hopes up. I wouldn't assume being pregnant meant I'd be bringing home a baby. I wouldn't talk about my pregnancy all the time, take stupid belly pictures, or buy all that baby stuff. I wouldn't lay my heart out there on the line, only to be hurt and humiliated once again.
Well Baby, I failed. My hopes are up. My heart is laid out for everyone to see. I guess I just don't know how to do it any other way.
I've got the weekly belly pictures all over facebook, the nursery painted, organized, and almost ready to go. I've taken birthing classes, have a birth plan all typed up, a 'delivery outfit' (consisting of an old sports bra and stretchy skirt--don't worry, I didn't buy one of those fancy gowns or anything!) picked out. I have a freaking highchair set up in my kitchen. I have one of your ultrasound pictures as my iPhone background, for goodness sake.
I'm sure some people look at me and think I'm the dumbest girl ever. I should know better than anyone else that pregnancy doesn't always equal baby. But despite the fear (and believe me, there is definitely a lot of fear!), you've managed to wrap me around your little finger, just like your sister did, and I just can't help but need to share that overwhelming love I have for you with the world.
Here I am again, believing with all my heart that I'm about to have a baby; one that I get to keep. I just hope that this time, I'm right.
I love you, little Valentine.
Makes the Missing Lighter
1 hour ago