I want another baby. I think that’s pretty obvious. But I’ve been trying to play it cool. Trying to be ok with the possibility that it won’t happen. Trying to come to terms with maybe stopping trying. Accepting that when George’s due date comes around, I probably won’t be pregnant. Trying so hard to be OK.
But there is a hole in my heart. A cavity in my chest. A fissure that opened up when we conceived George ready to make room for so much love. There’s room to be filled with love, laughter and happy memories.
A vacant lot.
I’m not ready for it to be boarded up never to be filled.
My heart has space to love another. I just want that chance.