It was my second pregnancy and everything was going well, but as my belly grew, so did the ache in my heart.
As we swept along with the swell of preparations, I’d look back at the tiny heart-shaped face of my first-born, so blissfully unaware, and my heart would crack, ever so slightly. I missed him already.
We were excited to meet our baby girl, but as her due date crept closer, I felt an urgency to make memories with my firstborn. The sadness of knowing he’d never remember a time when it was just us overwhelmed me.
We’d spent two and a half years revolving around our little sun. He had no idea it could be any different. The attention, the time, the love: it was ALL for him. ALL the time.
I was utterly consumed with all the things my little boy was about to lose.