I started counseling this year. Finally. It started when I had some extreme anxiety this summer and then I got pregnant, which brought another wave of intense emotions. This pregnancy has been so similar to Layla's in so many ways and the dates are so close that I am going through my usual "anniversaries" almost as pregnant as I was when they originally happened.
Many times I have broken into tears in her office, not realizing that there was grief at the bottom of everything. I told her that 4 years later, I forget about that ache sometimes. She said..."but your body remembers."
I knew this, and yet I thought maybe I was making it up, maybe it was just all in my head.
I have been feeling so much better the last couple of months. No anxiety, a lot more positive. But the day after Christmas, something changed. I felt so sad for seemingly no reason at all. I have been irritable and angry and wanting to spend a lot of time in my bed (which is unfortunately next to impossible with a 3 year old). Last night I slept horribly and woke up anxious and on the verge of tears.
Today I had to reschedule my next ultrasound, and it wasn't until she said "okay, we'll see you on January 8th" that I realized. That's the day before Layla's birthday. My body remembers these days, the agonizing in-between. We had our first ultrasound the day after Christmas. The diagnosis on the 29th. The decision, sometime around New Year's day. And then the wait. The horrible days of knowing what was about to happen and feeling her kick and wanting to wish it all away. January 8th is the day we drove to the hospital.
It's harder this year, because as I'm feeling this new baby girl kicking, learning her schedule and starting to "know" her personality, I am painfully reminded of how real our first baby was when we said goodbye. How fucking awful it was to walk into that hospital and agree to end it, to let her go.
But this is the pain I chose to live with. I chose to hurt so she would never have to. But oh my, sometimes it's hard.