This past week has been more emotional than usual. There are times, while riding in the car that I literally have to blink to either stop the tears or blink to allow them to fall.

Other times, it’s just a tiny piece of emotion that gets lodged in my throat. I literally can’t talk for a second, I let the moment pass and then I’m okay.

But other times, it’s more than tears, it’s solid crying, the kind that brings me to my knees, the kind that brings back every difficult moment in my past and makes that cry continue on…for a really long time. When I get to that place, every fear, every single shard of grief comes racing back to me at a hundred miles an hour and I can’t stop it, it’s so raw; so real. So painful.

I feel it. I accept it. It hurts. I move on.

I try to move on.

But lately, there is something about these “breakdowns” that are increasingly difficult to accept because the thoughts that race through my mind and the pain that stings my heart continue to affect me long after the tears are dry. When I wake up, eat lunch, while playing games with my family.

My fear of losing this baby is very big, very real. In fact, I may just be waiting for the loss to occur. I lost James and Jake at 19 weeks 2 days, today I am 17 weeks 3 days. As the day approaches, as that “milestone” of 19 weeks 2 days inches its way towards us, I’m seeing it as a deadline and not so much as a day that I can breathe a sigh of relief, as I imagined it would be.

I’m frustrated because throughout this pregnancy I have been so sure that this was going to be so good and so far, it has been. But for some reason, I’m waiting for my body to fail. I’m losing faith and that, along with everything else, is making me so sad.

I believe with all of my heart and soul that I lost James and Jake because it was too much for my body to carry twins, I don’t think there was anything else, so why, as my nineteenth week approaches is my fear increasing so much?

I promise, I have faith. I have faith in God and this baby and oh, I have faith in James and Jake. I believe they are here, protecting us, I know their hands rest on our shoulders, encouraging us to TRUST and GROW and LOVE, I believe they are whispering encouraging words to Anna and Noah…”it’s okay to love the baby…we promise, it’s okay.”

But there is still that tiny voice, that voice of reason that says “IT CAN HAPPEN AGAIN, watch yourself…do not let your guard down.”

And so, I sit here, as I have been lately, a pile of confusion and emotions and all I know is that RIGHT NOW we have this baby, this baby we love, this baby created out of nothing but HOPE and LOVE and it’s this moment that I trust.

It’s this moment, that I NEED.