I'll just come out and say it: I'm twenty-five weeks pregnant with Jack and Grace's youngest sibling.
It's a girl. We're going to call her Piper. We think.
I'm both elated at the thought of a sister for Grace and the thought Jack would send us a second girl to torment his dad for the rest of our lives... Tied into that is the thought that this might be out last pregnancy and I may very well be kissing the thought of another boy goodbye.
That's the hard part, the not knowing. The desire to continue to purchase boy things has never left me- Jack's wardrobe, let behind when he passed away, has continued to grow despite my best efforts. I love girl clothes because they're so cute and sweet... But I adore boy clothes because they're bears and monkeys and frogs and all the things I spent 9 months falling in love with when we were expecting Jack.
I am thrilled to have conceived this baby with relative ease, without the use of Clomid this time. I'm hopeful that we'll get the chance to provide Grace with a living sibling. I'm not sure she's going to see it that same way (she is possessive and jealous, so we will see!!!).
This pregnant has been easier, at least psychologically. I think it's the combination of being kept preoccupied by Grace and the idea I have longer working days now that I'm commuting each work day. I don't have as much time to lay there, I have fewer quiet moments where my mind will wander.
Of course I will always worry that this one won't make it either. It's only natural, I assume, to forever worry now that I know babies don't always live, no matter how much you want them to. No matter what you would trade to ensure that it was so.
I'm hoping the next few months pass quickly, and mid-February arrives with a healthy and living baby.
Jack's going to have two little sisters. I wish he were here to welcome Piper to our family, too.
Overheard This Morning
1 hour ago