I was lucky. Lucky in that I got pregnant with both my children fairly easily. Lucky I had fairly textbook pregnancies with both. Do not for a second think I don't know how lucky I am in that regard. I realize that, I promise.
But, when Kenzie had throat surgery at 3mos old, I felt that luck slipping. When we got told she would need open heart surgery, I told the universe I would have traded my 'easy' pregnancies for my child to have been healthy. I would have give my luck to Kenzie in an ironic heartbeat.
With Spencer, I began to hate my luck. Why had the universe let me get pregnant so easily and carried this child without issue, if hours after he was born we were going to be plunged into the deepest darkness imaginable?
Why give me 'luck' if I couldn't give any to Spencer?
My luck felt much more like a cruel joke at that point. It mostly still does.
I watch others around me getting pregnant, carrying their kids, having their children and going home with those kids. Happy, safe, loved...
and I wonder
'Why Me?!?' Why was my family chosen to be put through everything with Kenzie only to be told, that wasn't enough, and then put through so much more with Spencer?
I don't ever ask, 'why not them' because I truly wouldn't wish this on anyone. I wish for my friends, family, people I don't know to have the joy of being pregnant, of having their children, of going home and being a family. I wish that, almost as much as I wish Spencer was still here. Almost.
But I do wonder...'Why'
I am not religious. I don't believe in a higher power, or whatever you choose to call it. I don't believe this is some test of faith, or that all things that happen are for a bigger better reason and I should find strength in that. Sorry. Not my style.
I believed a bit in karma. The idea that you put good out and it comes back to you. But in this regard, that seems fairly impossible. Right now, I simply believe this is some grade A bullshit.
....
So, I go on with my days, wondering why, wishing I could change my luck and have had horrible pregnancies and great healthy babies. (Don't tell me the grass is greener, bc in this case-pretty sure anyone would agree to take a horrible pregnancy if it meant going home with their child).
I go on, happy for those around me as they announce pregnancies, births of their children, discuss genders and names. I go on, knowing I want what is best for all of them, while wishing with everything I had, that I too was talking about my son, as he should have been, not as my reality is.
Why??....Who the hell knows.
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