With our first pregnancy, things were much easier. I was blessed with being pregnant after the mere thought of, “Let’s start a family,” the month prior. However, attempting to grow our family since my daughter was born has been quite the journey.

After nearly a year of trying and facing the reality of disappointment month upon month, finally in the early morning of December 10th after a week of exhaustion, sporadic nausea, and days of waiting for my period, in the solitude of our hallway bathroom, I saw those elusive pink lines and learned I was going to be a mother for the second time.

So, I shouldn’t have to feel a pang of jealousy when I see another woman announce her pregnancy on Facebook.

I shouldn’t have to sigh when I see another women walk into my doctor’s office with a belly that makes her belly button turn from an innie to an outie.

I shouldn’t have to hold my breath and force a smile when someone yet again asks me if we want more children.

I shouldn’t have to exchange Googling “tips for motherhood with a toddler and infant” for “is spotting and back pain normal”.

I shouldn’t have to plead to God in prayer that this first sonogram isn’t my last.

I shouldn’t have to sit in the grocery store parking lot crying as they referred to my “blueberry” as a decreasing hCG number.

I shouldn’t have to use up all the post-pregnancy pads now from baby #1 that I never threw away for post-pregnancy baby #2.

I shouldn’t have to delete the Bump and What to Expect Apps on my phone for fear of a reminder.

I shouldn’t have to look at this rocking chair and wonder if it will ever rock in the middle of the night hushing a newborn again.

I shouldn’t have to tell my family that this Christmas season surprise we just announced left us as quickly as it came.

I shouldn’t have to murmur, “I lost the baby,” just weeks after exclaiming, “I am pregnant.”

I shouldn’t have to look at a calendar and think what week you would be only to realize I no longer am a week at all.
 
I shouldn’t have to move through this life so quickly as if you never came into my life at all.

Life is not fair. Our destiny and our stories are not always within the control of our own hands. We cannot fix every heartbreak card dealt.

On December 10th on an early Sunday morning, I learned I was going to be a mother for the second time. But on December 31st in the hustle and bustle of life moving, swirling all around me, I sat in a parking lot and shouldn’t have learned that you would never physically be mine.

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