I know it’s ridiculous.
I know just because I think something, doesn’t make it truth.
But I felt such a loss. Though I didn’t lose anything, or anyone I should say.
Getting pregnant was a struggle with our first, then an unplanned God-sent surprise with our second.
I can call it hopeful, though it’s filed under naïve, that I just assumed it would be a swift attempt to make number three.
I thought within no time would I feel that shifting deep inside. My body and heart making room for this new person.
Recently, I thought I was feeling that familiar widening of space. Those twinges and cramps that awaken sleeping parts of a mother in me. The gut reaction to hold my hands against my abdomen for no reason at all, other than to acknowledge. I claimed these sensations. I felt lighter and heavier all at once. I became pregnant in my thoughts.
That gap from month to month becomes a waiting room. I needed confirmation. I took some tests. I didn’t see two pink lines. By default I assumed it was too early.