It’s an odd feeling to miss something you never had. To wonder about how life would have been and long for it so much. There are times the enorminty of what I lost hits me and it feels like the first time all over again.
One of the hardest parts for me has been the fact that the pregnancy I had will never happen again. Now hear me out – I’m not saying if you lost one baby you can just go out and get yourself pregnant again and all better. I know it’s never the same. But with me, it’s different because I lost an entire life. I lost being a mom of twins, having a twin pregnancy, all the things that go with it. I lost raising two identical boys, watching them grow up, seeing the men they become.
I will never, ever have that. Ever. I mean, the chances are really not in my favor.
And so pondering another pregnancy in the future isn’t easy. I will never again feel two babies move in side of me, hear two heartbeats on the doppler, see two little wiggling forms on the ultrasound.
I try not to feel sorry for myself in all this, we have Bella and the adoption. We have a very sweet little life here. I think what gets me is how sad I am for how happy I was about it all. There is a part of me that feels so sad for the girl 3ish months ago who was unaware of what was going to happen.
I take myself back to the day my water broke and want to rewind and scream, “No, no – don’t head back to the bathroom, it’s all going to end there!”
And yet nothing I could have done would have prevented it. It’s hard to comprehend one minute rubbing my stomach and the next feeling the amniotic fluid gush down my legs. Life just – gone.
I want this adoption to get moving so much simply for the fact that in many ways, I feel like since I came home from the hospital my life rewinded to last year. Mother of one (on earth). Hesitant about being pregnant ever again.
It’s such a strange thing. In the middle of life reversing, I have all these memories and dreams of something that I never tangibly got to have, but ended up changing everything anyway.
Then there is the part of me that is fiercely proud I had that life ever – for a brief moment it was mine. They are always mine.
I’m reminded that the life I have now is so full of blessings, and while I will long for the one with my sons forever, I choose to try to be content with what I was given instead. It’s hard. But it’s about the only real control I have over any of it. The choice with how I deal with losing it all.