12 weeks is a long time

I know part of my writer's block has to do with my emotional state. My recent loss is still a weight on my heart that I struggle to carry daily. I worry about how much this is affecting how I handle mothering my children. I also worry about its affect on my marriage.

I don't know what to do about any of it because 12 weeks is such a long time to get used to the idea that life is about to change again. It's a long time to think about adding another soft, sweet, special little person to your world. It's a long time to remind yourself of the sights, sounds and smells that melt your heart. It's long enough that now that I've reached what would have been the middle of my pregnancy, I still can't completely grasp that there will be no new baby for me in the spring. I still feel phantom pregnancy signs. I've wasted money to take tests to make the reality settle into my brain, but it won't. I tell myself it could be a faulty test and then start all over again trying to grasp reality in some other way.

I don't know how long it will be before I accept it and move forward, but I know that if/when I am blessed with another pregnancy, the world will turn upside down again and I won't be able to accept the reality of that until I have a live baby in my arms. The irony in that is almost too much to handle, but I'll keep carrying my burden and grab onto any balloons of hope that happen to float by and try to use them to the best of my feeble abilities. If nothing else, this Bad Mother is stubborn and can't keep from trying even the missions that are unachievable.