Not that Easy

Everyone's excitement over the birth of Piper is almost palpable.   An electric buzz in the air - and just below that, a soft sigh of relief.   Finally.   Finally, I'll have my baby.  Finally, I'll have the happiness I deserve.  I am surrounded by love and support, and I am so grateful to have friends and family who will rally around me.   

But, I get this feeling that many people think Monday is going to be some magical moment that will wipe away all of my sadness forever.   Like it's going to completely fix things.   I've been sad, but once Piper is here, I won't be anymore and everything will be smooth sailing.   This couldn't be further from the truth, and I need to make this very clear.  

Piper is coming.   I am full of so many emotions, I really am not equipped to put them into words, which is highly unusual for me.  When she is here, I will feel an enormous flood of relief, joy, and love.  But, as much as you might not want to hear it, I will also feel huge waves of sadness and guilt.   It's just what happens when you have two children, but can only keep one.   Why Piper and not Kenley?  Why can't I have both of my girls?

Bringing Piper safe and sound into this world will not soothe the pain of being unable to do the same for Kenley.   Like I said in this previous post, there will always be a split of feelings.  Joy and sorrow will always go hand and hand in my heart.  There is no changing that.  No level of excitement will overcome it. 

I want you to understand this, but I know not everyone can.  I know the jumbled mess of my emotions is not easily deciphered, especially by those who haven't traveled this road themselves, but I need you to try.   As excited as I am for Piper's birth, I am equally devastated over my forever missing daughter.  That is not going to go away.

On Monday, when Piper's cries fill the delivery room, mine will too.  They will be the cries of a thousand feelings.  I have seen enough ultrasounds to know she's going to look like her sister, which will be both wonderful and heart-wrenching.   

I suppose my point to this post is this:  there is no easy fix.  You can't tuck my story into a box, wrap it with the bow of Piper's birth, and call it a day.  Her birth is not the end of my grief because there is no end to this grief.  I am no longer hopeless, but I am still sad.  I still lost my first born.   No matter how many more children I have in life, I will never have Kenley.   

I love both of my girls.  I always, always will.  Thank you for your support, your excitement, and your well wishes, but please remember there is so much more to this.   Please remember, Piper is a little sister.