Making Space

Today, I would have been 20 weeks pregnant.  I would have been half done.  We would have been having an ultrasound and finding out if it was a boy or girl.  Instead, I am working to lose weight and get myself ready for our one last try.  One last try, the results of which we will receive around what would have been Oliver's due date.  Is it serendipity, coincidence, irony, or just twisted?  To me, it seems somehow crazy and right at the same time.  Like that day was always going to be important for us.  I am curious to know what the day will hold for us now.  Finality, certainly, regardless of outcome.  But will it be an affirmation of life, more disappointment, some of both?  All I can do is wait.  Wait and feel.  Scared.  Hopeful.  Excited.  Anxious.  Impatient.  Frustrated.  Sad.  And I'm giving myself some space.  Space to remember the joy I felt when we found out I was pregnant.  Space to remember the loss.  Space to think about what might have been.  Space to hope about what still might be.  Space to send love to my angel baby.  Space to be gentle with myself while I continue to heal.  Space for feelings.  Space for memories.  Space for growth.  Space for me.  And maybe, hopefully, space for someone new in the coming months.