Grief Still Sucks

Recently, I have really felt like I've taken like 12 steps backwards in regards to where I am with my grief. I know it's messy and not black and white, but sometimes the depths of grief seem to be bottomless. 

I know my pregnancy hormones don't help things, but I also feel that this pregnancy is bringing new layers of grief to surface. 

As I am coming up on 32 weeks, I am finding myself comparing this trimester to my pregnancy with Jonathan more than the other two. Since I was on bed rest this time last time, I find myself more anxious about aches and twinges that feel at this stage.

I think ultimately there's a real part of me that thinks there's a chance that something could still go wrong.  It's almost like I can't exhale the breath I've been holding on to these last 32 weeks. As Zachary's due date gets closer, the harder I am trying to hold my breath. It's exhausting.

In our own twisted way, Charles and I joke about how we've already done the pregnancy part, but we haven't actually brought a baby home before. And I find myself being anxious of bringing Zachary home, but I also anticipate there being so much relief when that actually happens...(I just had to fight myself from typing "if that actually happens")...

You know, I have yet to finish any of the baby books that I have. And time is coming soon for us to actually meet Zachary. I think deep down I haven't finished a book yet because I am scared of actually anticipating bringing Zachary home. That by reading the books, it will just get my hopes up that much higher.

See, I told you grief still sucks. It still has such a strong hold on the outlook of these next few weeks.

I've always been a worst case scenario person and grief just amplifies it to another level. I was anxious with my delivery with Jonathan, but the count down of these next few weeks and delivering Zachary has my anxiety spiraling. 

I know there will be challeges when Zachary arrives, but I think the joy of having him safely in my arms and bringing him home will bring a new form of healing. 

Now, if only I could actually breathe before then.