. . . since my last miscarriage.
I rarely even give it any thought,
and it truly does seem like it happened so much longer ago.
So long ago, that it feels more like another lifetime.
In a way, it was.
It was during the first weeks of having Andrew home,
so time was such a blur.
But every once in a while,
coincidently about once a month,
I am reminded of that loss.
And I wonder.
I wonder if I will have to go through it yet again.
I wonder if I'll get pregnant again.
I wonder if I want to.
I know I'm deathly afraid
of being pregnant again.
Afraid of getting excited.
Afraid of losing again.
Afraid of complications.
Afraid of success.
Afraid of letting everyone down.
And so I practice avoidance,
So there's no chance of being afraid,
of failing yet again.
But still I wonder,
as I dream and hope for a sibling for Andrew.
I wonder if I'll have another chance,
or if my fear has chased it away.