Today was my due date.
But I'm kind of glad I don't have a baby. Sad, yes, but the idea of having an infant right now is kind of foreign. I know a big part of it is the fact that I was no longer pregnant so there was no point in getting myself ready for a baby (the beauty of nine months: you get a little bit of time to brace yourself), but at the same time it's not our time yet. I think we're definitely getting closer, but we're not quite there yet.
And, of course, there's always the fear and worry that we might not be able to have any more (my track record isn't great when it comes to this baby stuff: I had to have a medical intervention with Max and then had a miscarriage), but then I reprimand myself because I had just one miscarriage and that's perfectly normal and doesn't mean a thing and pre-eclempsia has no rhyme or reason to it and I may never have it again.
But the funny thing is Nicola is close. I feel him here with me at random times, usually when I least expect it but really need it. I don't know if I'll ever get to meet him in this life (I really hope I can) or if I'll have to wait until the next, but for now this is enough. And despite the fact my arms ache to hold my own precious newborn again, I'm content to wait (for now).
So here's to the hope of getting pregnant again. And having it stick.