This month begins the two-month span of three of our baby-loss anniversaries.  Since 2007, we have followed the same pattern about this time every year: in late July or early August, we will discover that we are pregnant; by mid August or early September, we will have lost the baby.  I dreaded last August with a fear and anxiety I had never felt before in my life.  This year’s fresh perspective has made it easier not to worry like that again.

The only kink this year is that my sister-in-law is due to have her first baby in September, and I will be invited to and expected to attend at least four baby showers, maybe five, during the season that marks my losses.  I already love and adore my soon-to-be niece, but all that joy is tinged with indescribable pain.  On one hand, I know I’ll be a great and fun aunt; on the other hand, I know I would be a great mom, too.  I love that my parents-in-law are so excited about this baby’s arrival, and I hate that we couldn’t experience that same joy with any of our baby announcements.

I am trying to blaze a new path this year by not worrying, by resting in faith, but I still stumble into the same questions.  What should that look like in my life?  How do I both embrace the joy of a new arrival and respect the grief I am still processing?  These are the times I wish complete avoidance worked as well for me as it does for my dog; on second thought, no matter how hard he tries to hide, he still gets a bath in the end…

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