I am officially in the home stretch. I’m whale huge and uncomfortable and feel so unprepared for this new little one. I mean, clothes are washed and organized, diapers and wipes are purchased. The house is still construction chaos, but we are used to that by now. We only work well on deadlines.
I’m unprepared emotionally. I’ve had to go through all of the baby stuff again. Most of it was hand me downs or from Darcy, so I have to say it’s been fun seeing that again. The stuff that was truly Benny’s though, it sucks. A piece of me dies each time we come across his shoes, or his hats or his toys that have been away. I don’t even know where to begin with this stuff. His dresser remains the same, an untouched mausoleum to a 17 month old boy. I know it’s only things, but they were his things.
I’ve looked at this situation so much from Darcy’s perspective, but now as I get closer to holding this little man in my arms, I’m overwhelmingly sad for him. He will never know his older brother. They will never meet, besides my dreams. They will never play together, or laugh or argue. He will know him only through pictures and stories. I’ve thought so much about what Darcy lost, but never really much about what Fletcher will never know. I’m so sad for him.
I’m worried about how overwhelming it will be to hold Fletcher in my arms for the first time. I’m scared about being in a hospital setting for any of this. I truly hope that St. V’s will honor our wishes for a natural birth. I’m scared for all that could go wrong, even though I’ve had two perfect deliveries. There are no guarantees and that is what frightens me the most.