Although I have blogged very little over the past seven months since Baby C arrived, I have continued to hop on here to offer support to others dealing with babyloss or who are struggling with infertility regularly. I think of my blog friends often, keep everyone's journeys in my thoughts and prayers, and celebrate others' progress.
The main reason for not writing much, I suppose, is my wanting to stay present during this precious time with my rainbow baby C. You see, my blog started when I was in the depths of grief, then stuggling after babyloss with infertility, and continued through my second pregnancy. Often when I wrote I was processing grief, fear, and anxiety. I will probably always carry grief and deal with many difficult emotions on regular basis. However, I am in a new place now with the arrival of my rainbow baby. And that big part of my life is not what this blog is going to become all about.
This blog has been the place where I am free to remember my first son Baby S openly and freely among people who understand. And I still need to check in and visit this community. These days when I miss Baby S I find myself in a delicate place where I am constantly finding myself challenged: trying to balance remembering my first son without the sadness/self-pity/anger at the same time. I struggle with that balance often. So I feel somewhat conflicted at times. I truly feel blessed and have so much gratitude for where I am right now. It's just that sometimes I have to reel myself back in from spiraling into sadness and pity and bring my focus back to acceptance.
My rainbow baby, Baby C, is doing great. :) He is a happy, healthy 7 month old. He is smiley and a giggler, and very much a busy boy. I could not count the number of times that I have thanked him and thanked the universe that he is here. I am sure I would feel incredibly grateful had this been an easy journey getting here.. but having faced the difficulties that we did I feel like I am bursting with gratitude sometimes. He is truly amazing. To borrow a line from Em.ma's Daddy, I feel like "the luckiest, unluckiest person in the world."