The Haunting

Realized last night that it's October. Not October, but October. When our "Halloween baby" should be here, if my body hadn't betrayed me. My mind locked up last night, stuck in a spin cycle of where our lives should be versus where they are at. And I suppose I'll be haunted by what could have been again come February 14, when our "Valentine's baby" should have been arriving, had my body not betrayed me a second time. And I'm haunted by the souls that should have shared this house with us, one of which should be here at any second, should have been sleeping in a crib where, instead, I sit and type these haunted thoughts. And I wonder if Evan remembers our Halloween baby discussion, wonder if he remembers I told him maybe we'd just have a baby a little later, wonder if he realizes just how much time had really passed. And I look at him now, at a time where he should about to be a big brother, and my heart breaks and hurts all over again.

I'm haunted, too, by the fear that, if we ever make it to attempt number three, that it will be "three strikes, you're out" instead of "third times a charm". And the fear that there will forever be a desk in this very spot where my computer sits, that I will forever have to sit here and wonder what might have been, forever picture a crib in the corner where a stack of work lies instead.

I hate this body. If it would only fucking work the way it's supposed to.