I actually think about her more now. Pregnancy is really all I have to connect with Kenley. The nausea, the exhaustion, the poking out of the belly, the pops and wiggles that will soon become full-blown jabs and jolts. A little over a year ago, I was experiencing these physical changes with Kenley. And now, I am starting again with Bean. Every moment, I worry about Bean in there - and I think back to last year when I was carrying my little ninja, which makes me feel empty and full at the same time. I am happy I have this second chance with Bean, while also being angry I have to even have a second chance. Why didn't I get to keep my first chance? I love, love, love both of my children, so it is so difficult to rejoice in one at the expense of the other. To be happy for Bean reminds me of why I am pregnant now, and why I don't have a baby in my arms. To wish I had Kenley seems like a slap in the face to Bean. I still don't know how to reconcile this. How do you handle loving your children equally when the life of one is the direct result of the death of the other?
That conflict aside, Kenley is my first born. She will always be a part of me. I will always love and miss her. Being pregnant again does not take away the hurt of her loss. I can have a hundred more children, and I will always ache for her. I will always choke back tears when I think of never holding her again. I will always have to catch my breath when I look at the few pictures I have of her beautiful face. Those things will never be "fixed." Not by another pregnancy. Not with time. Nothing will ever make this better.
I just wanted to put that out there. I love Kenley. I love Bean. I am happy for my second child. I still miss my first. I am not fixed, and I won't really ever be. I am learning to navigate around the holes in my heart, but those holes will always be there. When Bean comes, my heart will swell in the places where Bean fits, but they won't close the gaps where Kenley is not. The thing with rainbows is you can't have them without the rain.