May 1

I know that this should probably go in my pregnancy blog but... well... I've been terrible at writing over there during this pregnancy.

I'm sitting here at 41 weeks and two days pregnant with Freja's little brother. Even a year after losing Freja and being this.close to giving birth to her sibling, I still generally find it easier to avoid pictures of newborn babies. Browsing through one of my 'due date club' forums, I took a deep breath and dove into a thread that contained pictures of all the new babies. Looking at pictures of children holding their new siblings, smiling and proud, so beautifully unaware of the pain that losing that little brother or sister would cause sent waves of grief through me for my own children. I think of the mere handful of pictures I have of them holding their sister... The wide eyed look of fear and uncertainty on their faces as they hold her briefly and try to process the hustle and bustle of the NICU, the wires and tubes strung from her tiny body and the confusion of being told that she may never come home. This sister who they looked forward to getting to know for all those months before her birth. Followed by the horror of death, watching their sister being lowered into the ground, watching mommy cry daily, missing out on normal 'kid' things like going to birthday parties and the park because mommy just couldn't handle it all, playing along side a grave 'with their sister' instead of in our back yard.... These are just some of the many things that I feel terrible that my kids have had to experience and accept as a 'normal' part of their lives.

I sit here, 41 weeks and two days pregnant with Freja's little brother, and I have a little toy chick laying on my chest - something my two-year-old insists stays there "for Freja...." To her, the footprint necklace that I wear every day is a symbol of her sister, and the only way she will ever be able to relate and converse directly with her little sister as a tangible being is by talking to my necklace and presenting it with little gifts and offerings throughout the day. She climbs up on my lab several times a day and talks to it.... "Would Freja like a sip of milk?" She asks so innocently as she looks up at me with her big blue eyes and holds her sippy cup up to the little silver pendant around my neck.

My eyes well up with tears. Her love for Freja is evident, she is a proud big sister and will let everybody who will listen know it. She very adamantly refers to the baby inside of me as 'Freja's Baby,' and will call him by no other name.

Sometimes I can smile through the tears and feel happiness that even through death my children will always have that special connection..... But it will always hurt deeply that it has to be this way.