Two weeks

My tiny baby boy has been dead for two weeks.

Sometimes I feel okay.  I don't sit around and cry all day, or anything.  I'm not exactly back to normal physically, so I'm pretty limited in what I'm able to do.  But I've had visits and phone calls from friends and family, I work on small tasks I can accomplish while sitting, and I've been reading a lot.  Most of the time, I feel almost normal.  And then I'll think of something, and it somehow leads back to the fact that I was expecting two babies, and now I'm not going to have any.  Or rather, I had them, but I'll never nurse them, they'll never make cute baby noises, and they'll never grow up.  It sucks.

I want something to look forward to.  My future right now seems like a blank canvas, but in a bad way.  I don't know where I'm going with work, with family, with anything.  I was officially offered the K9 position at work after we learned I'd only be having one baby.  I agreed to it, since that had been the original plan.  But now that we're not having any babies, I feel a little conflicted.  I really think I want to try again.  I don't want to give up on the idea of having another child.  That puts a big crimp in my career plans... But I don't think it matters.  If the job stuff is supposed to work out, it will eventually.

I never thought I'd say this, but I actually miss being pregnant.  I just don't know if we're going to be able to emotionally handle trying to conceive another baby.  I knew with our first miscarriage that something was wrong.  I mentioned to Shayne several times that I thought something was wrong with our baby.  It was more a "what if" kind of feeling, but it was there nonetheless.  With Ethan, I never had that.  I worried a bit, but in a more normal, non-specific way.  With the twins, I was worried at 7 weeks that something wasn't right, which is what led to the ultrasound that found both babies.  And after that, I was sort of fixated on Vanishing Twin Syndrome and NICU babies.  After Owen was born, I told numerous people that I didn't feel like anything was wrong with Baby B, and that I didn't think I was going to lose her.  And there wasn't anything wrong with her.  If the placentas hadn't been fused, she almost certainly would have been fine.

But now I feel like I'll be paranoid no matter what.  Hearing a heartbeat is no guarantee of safety.  Feeling a baby move doesn't mean she'll be okay.  I think I'd be a wreck the entire time, regardless of gut feelings.  I would so love to have one of those "Zen" pregnancies where the mama-to-be is totally calm, positive, and at one with the Universe throughout.  But I'm such a control freak that I don't know if I could even come close.  Maybe if I could be cloistered with a bunch of nuns or something...