February 26th. Today was my due date for the baby we lost in August. Is it irony that the baby I carry now is due in August, the very same week?
We buried each of the babies in little wooden boxes in the pot of a small mandarin tree. My midwife had suggested that we choose a tree that would give fruit and feed us for years to come. Strangely, the fruit has never been edible.
There is still a little fear in me that we could lose this one, and knowing there is no room left in the pot.
Though I realized I have reached a turning point. In the past few days I noticed I have begun to worry about postpartum depression (I have had it with 3 out of 4 babies so far). This must mean that I am thinking about the end. A good end.
And today I am thinking of another end that wasn’t so good. I can do both. It takes away a little of the hurt, still having hope for August.
(Hello to Edgewood MD! Thanks for reading. Stop by and say hi!)