I'm sure some of you are wondering. I'm sure some of you are thinking, "Are they going to try again?"
And I've thought about it. A lot. But haven't mentioned it here because that seems to take something away from the death of my daughter.
Still, I'm obsessed with the idea of "rainbow babies." Didn't know that term a month ago, but it's sweet, isn't it? The children born after the loss of their siblings. Rainbows. Hope.
I'm obsessed with how long other baby-loss couples wait before trying again, looking for some magic timetable to tell me when we might be ready.
I have thought a lot about getting pregnant again.
But I am realizing something.
I don't want to just get pregnant again.
I want to get pregnant with Lydie.
I want a do-over.
I want a redo.
My friend Jen (Jen, maybe I should start calling you my "mentor," that might be more appropriate), who lost her son Luke, appropriately called this a "knee-jerk reaction." And I'm realizing she's right. Initially, getting pregnant seemed like the only way to fix my empty arms. My empty heart.
But it won't fix anything.
No matter how many children we are able to have in the future, our family will always be missing one.
We'll always be missing Lydie.
And I realize that Justin and I need some time to mend our broken hearts before we can even begin to fathom our third child.
And I realize that I need time to grieve before I can think about taking on a high-risk, anxiety-ridden pregnancy.
And I realize that another baby would be just that - another baby. Not Lydie, not a replacement for Lydie. But Lydie's sibling.