We got our CVS results yesterday. All the chromosomes are arranged just as they are supposed to be. And this baby is another boy.
I am incredibly relieved to know that all is going as it's "supposed" to, chromosomally speaking, that is. And I am officially out of that "first trimester" danger zone. But come on, we all know that the danger zone has no boundary. We are in it, forever. Sure, statistics say...yadda yadda. Statistics didn't do me a whole lot of good last September.
I miss Otis so much, and also so differently, I think, with this new one growing inside of me. I am now mourning a different level of the loss - I burst into tears the other day thinking about Otis being a big brother, but a big brother forever frozen in time as a newborn. I worry about how this new baby (*insert standard disclaimer of "IF HE LIVES AND COMES HOME" wherever it's needed in this and any subsequent posts, please) might grow up in his big brother's shadow. I worry about what this baby will know of Otis. I am so sad that Otis will only be dead to his brother. His brother will never know Otis as we did, when he was in my belly, kicking, hiccuping, stretching, squirming. His brother will never know Otis as our greatest wish, our biggest hope, our best dream; only as our saddest loss.
I am thrilled to be carrying another boy. I am sure that had we found out I was carrying a girl, I would be thrilled as well, though if I am honest, I would have to say that it would take me longer to adjust to that news. Just yesterday morning I lay in my bed, thinking about all the boy clothes we have in boxes in our basement. Many were made or bought especially for Otis, and I imagine there will be some that will always be his, no matter what, and a new baby will not wear them. But there also will be many shared pieces of clothing, and I am happy thinking that we may have a baby to wear them someday soon.
See, this is what's complicated. Yesterday after getting our cvs results I had many glimpses of that "naive pregnant lady" hopeful optimism that I thought was forever lost to me. I find myself thinking a lot that this baby IS coming home with us. I catch myself talking as if this is a sure thing. What the? Didn't I learn? How could I possibly be so naive, so hopeful, so STUPID?
I promise, gods above, I am not trying to tempt fate, I am not asking to be struck down again. I just would really really like to hold my son, hear him cry, bring him home and watch him grow.