Three and a half years ago, the world loosened its grip on me and sent me spinning through space and time, and the only thing tethering me to this planet was my devoted husband Geoff. I’ve had many days during which I prayed for this life to let me go, to send me into free fall, to deliver me to a better place where I could be with my lost babies. But I underestimated my tenacity. I kept going. So here I am with everything I always wanted and it’s unbelievable and stomach-churning awkward and marvelous…
But how long can this last? I think of Molly constantly. I think of how badly I wanted to hold her. Baby J’s heartbeat sounds just like hers did and I remember how strong and vital it rang, despite her having major heart defects. Her ghost still flits about the apartment and on occasion I see a whip of straight black hair just outside my line of vision.
I wonder if this terrible sadness will ever relax its vise-like grip on my heart. She still occupies my body, but so does our new baby. I worry that my grief will consume us all, even now in this time of great hope.