When I gave birth to Stella I imagined that I'd be crying with joy and relief that she was finally here. And I was happy, over the moon happy, but I didn't cry. I was more in shock, I think, that I had actually done it. I had carried a baby for 37 weeks in my womb and successfully delivered her alive.
Love was instant. She is the love of my life. Any mother will tell you that the love you feel for your child is indescribable, words cannot express it fully.
I expected the love. What I did not expect was the grief. I did not expect the sadness.
And I'm not talking about baby blues. Fortunately, I do not think that I have been effected by the baby blues. What has happened is my grief for losing Harper has returned. And it has worsened.
At night while I am nursing Stella in her dark room I think about Harper. I get saddened watching my little love so contently at my breast. My heart is filled with love and also grief. I find myself crying, intensely, when I think about the things I do with Stella that I never got to do with Harper. It is a strange thing to feel so much happiness and sadness at the same time. The more love I feel for Stella, the more sadness I feel for Harper.
And I feel guilty.
Guilty for being so happy. It's not fair to Harper. It's not fair Harper never had a chance to have daddy read her stories at bedtime. It's not fair she didn't get to cuddle in bed with mommy after daddy had gone to work. She didn't even get a chance to meet us outside of my womb.
But it's not fair to Stella either. It's not fair to her that the joy she brings me also makes me sad. It's not fair to her that I long to hold her sister in my arms...