Sometimes I find myself disconnected from this whole process. It's like a look down and think damn, how'd I get so fat? Just for second, before it clicks in that I am actually pregnant again.
Sometimes I feel so guilty for not being invested every second of the this time. I feel like a terrible mom for not showering on these babies the attention I devoted to my girls.
Sometimes I feel awful and prickly because the most harmless comment will set me off. But, honestly, no, May will not be here before I know it. I will sweat out every damn minute until this babes are safe.
Sorry I've been gone for a bit. Just nothing much to share. I think mostly because I've kinda of put everything on mute about pregnancy for a bit. I'll turn the volume back up at 24, 26, or 28 weeks. I just have to make it that far.
We are entering the Danger Zone. (How bad that I have that song from Top Gun in my head right now??) This time between showing and having something to show for it. I've walked this path, I've been 18 weeks, and I still have a silent house. Empty arms. Broken heart. How did I convince myself it can end differently? But it must. It just has to. I know more. I've taken more precautions. I'm more careful. It must be different this time.
For all that I'm disconnected... I do already love these children so much. My beautiful babies. My perfect little girl and boy who for right now are healthy and happy and growing strong inside me. I promise I'll do everything in my power to keep it that way for you both.
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