The Holidays and Mixed Emotions

Second trimester has brought with it easier days, both emotionally and physically.  I have been feeling fantastic and am finally understanding why some people say they loved being pregnant. Right now, it's no more morning sickness, a cute little round belly, and lots of energy and motivation to nest the hell outta my house.  I realize this won't last forever, but for the time being, I'm enjoying every (well, almost every) minute of it.

But the holidays have brought with it some other feelings I don't think I expected to feel quite as much as I have.  It's not the holidays themselves per say - they just happen to coincide with the timeline of my last pregnancy so well.  Last time, we found out we were pregnant shortly after Thanksgiving.  We squeezed in our first ultrasound before Christmas Eve.  We announced to our close family at Christmas.  We announced to close friends at New Year's.  We started the ordeal of loss just a week after New Year's.  And worst of all:  This was supposed to be our baby's first Christmas.  

I am so, so happy we are expecting; I can not imagine how much harder all of the above would be if we weren't.  But I would be lying if I said there wasn't an undertone of what we have lost as well.  It's so very true that getting pregnant again doesn't magically erase all the heartache.  There was a different baby, another little girl, and to think that this new little girl somehow erases her completely is just not realistic.  

With that, I'd like to share some photos.  When we told our family last year, my husband captured it on camera.  Neither one of us can bring ourselves to delete the photos.  They are a testimate to the joy our first pregnancy brought, even if the joy was short lived. 

Right when my husband spilled the beans.  My one sister in law (kneeling) had guessed the news, and we had shared a quick look of knowing before we announced. I think she's saying, "I knew it!".

You can't tell but it was LOUD.  All I was able to register was screaming, and it completely overwhelmed me.  All I could do was stand there covering my face.