As I stumble to the bathroom for the fourth time in the night, the thought crosses my mind that this interrupted sleep is good practice for when the baby is here. I envision holding her and feeding her and rocking her back to sleep.
Then I groggily chastise myself for forgetting that it will be Simon, and not Lyra. I'd think an entire year without her would change that...that having seen his boy parts every week now would have brought him out from underneath her shadow. He is the reality that we hope to bring home within the next month, whereas she is gone.
I'm slowly getting excited as the concept of us bringing a baby home seems to get closer. I know there's still plenty that can go wrong. But I'm hoping nothing does...I want to meet my son and look him in the eyes and connect to him. To establish him as his own person.
I just really miss her though.