Sometimes, I just sit with my hands on my belly. I close my eyes and try to imagine him tossing and turning in there, amusing himself by toying with my various extra organs and playing trampoline on my bladder.
And sometimes I imagine them both.
Him, and his “imaginary brother” -which is what the Kid has taken to calling this spirit baby who won’t seem to leave us.
I try to keep my random thoughts about it to myself, because I really want to just get over it already and move on. (And also, people think I am crazy enough as it is) It feels silly to still be feeling this way. To still be clinging to this idea that was only there for a few weeks. It’s only hurting me.
I tell myself that my loss is nothing in the face of what others have lost. That I am being silly for still feeling this, for still mourning the loss of something that never really was mine to begin with. For missing the dream that was my twins.
I push it all aside and I get ready for this baby, I focus on reality, but I just can’t stop seeing two of him everywhere I look. Sometimes, I even feel him. Hiccups, back and low and against my back. Much softer and lower than his. Phantom hiccups.
And everywhere I go now, there it is. In front of me in line at the grocery store is a woman with a perfect circle of belly jutting out. “Wow, any time now,” the clerk comments. “No,” she replies, beaming, “I’m only five months along. I’m having twins.”
At the Zoo, every other stroller is a double stroller with two identical faces peering out at me from underneath the canopy.
Emails that I canceled 20 weeks ago pop up and remind me that “Raising twins is tough” and that I need to eat more protein. I cancel them again and add them to my spam pile. They keep coming back anyway.
(I realize this is the same phenomena that happens when you are pregnant and suddenly there are pregnant people everywhere, only multiplied. )
Yesterday the kid was playing pregnant. Out she comes, with an oddly shaped lump tucked under her shirt. As I help her ‘deliver’ I see that there are two dolls squished in there, not one. And I sit with them on my belly for too long, until she protests and reclaims them, with a Mommy is weird shrug.
I just nod. Sorry kid. Mommy is a little weird right now. It will get better with time, right?