I’ve been feeling a bit split in my personality these days. One part if me is really happy and excited that the pregnancy is progressing so well. Noah is growing steadily, and at 24 weeks now we even have our official court order that declares him completely ours. I’m thrilled he’s healthy and strong and well on his way, but another part of me keeps getting this ache in my heart for an experience in which I can only be spectator in.
I feel torn. I’m grateful for everything I’ve been given and all I have to look forward to; but I feel pain for what I am reminded I can’t have. I wish it wasn’t so, I wish it didn’t matter so much to me; but as I watch another woman swell with my growing son, there is a sadness mingled with my joy. Often times the joy wins over my soul, but occasionally the bittersweet reality settles in; usually when I least expect it and when I’m least prepared. Watching Brian’s smile spread wide across his face as he feels Noah for the first time, the first time he has ever been able to feel any of our children. The pure happiness he felt at that moment I couldn’t give him, but oh how I wished I could.
I know I’m still Noah’s mommy. I certainly did my part. Sometimes it’s just hard to feel like it, sometimes I just feel like the extra woman in the doctor’s office.
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