After we lost Jillian, reading or hearing the phrase “third trimester” was enough to make me throw up. It was the trimester I didn’t get to have. I also wasn’t sure if i’d ever experience it. At first, I wasn’t sure I wanted to get pregnant again, then there was the unfounded fear that I wouldn’t be able to, and then there was the very real fear that I wouldn’t make it that far. I don’t really know how to explain it, but it’s like I focused a lot of my anger on anything to do with the third trimester.
So,now I’m here. It doesn’t really any different, except maybe I can breathe a little easier, but I feel that way every morning, regardless of any milestones. I’ve had a lot of people tell me that time will really start flying now. I don’t want to wish time away because I love being pregnant and want to savor every moment, but I know I’ll be feeling much better emotionally as we get closer to the end.
Well, maybe. Dave and I were discussing last night that as much as we don’t want to, we may be those parents – the overprotective, nervous, clingy parents we were always sure we’d never be. I think knowing how it feels to lose your child, your heart, makes it more difficult to avoid. Hopefully we won’t do too much emotional damage.