"Is this your first?"

It's a question I've dreaded from the moment I found out I was pregnant. I can always sense when it's coming - but it never fails to make my heart sink. I still ask myself what the right answer is... respond with the truth? Or respond with the easiest and most comfortable answer - for the poor unsuspecting person who asks. It's not that I blame them for asking... I've done it myself a hundred times probably... although there's a possibility I may never again., and there are worse questions to ask a pregnant woman I suppose...

My answer 99.9% of the time to the question, "is this your first"?:
"Yes."
And each time I silently beg Ricky from my heart to forgive me, and understand why I choose to lie.

I've heard several suggested alternatives to my response... but somehow this assumingly innocent question - usually presented in passing - rarely seems to justify the explanation that I would love to give. And while it hurts to feel that I am denying his existance, it somehow hurts more at times to endure the awkward and un-thought out responses of someone who is completely caught off guard and has no idea what to say. And so, to make it easy on them... I give them the simple answer they are looking for. "Yes". After all... in asking they no doubt are referring to "biological" children... right? And... this truly is - my first pregnancy. That alone, to many, should make it special - and unique.

Still, the reality is, this pregnancy is bittersweet for me. I don't mean to sound ungrateful - as I am well aware of countless friends and family who would give their right arm for the simple gift of being able to carry a child of their own. I am grateful... and feel overwhelmingly blessed for all that God has walked me through, and put into my life today. The truth is however... this baby is no more special to me than Ricky is. I hope that doesn't sound terrible... but it is how I feel. The circumstances of how each child got into this world in the first place really has no effect whatsoever on my outpouring of love for them. Ella, (we have decided on a name finally), will most definitely be special to me since she is a part of both Eric and I, but both she and Ricky were given to me by God... via very different miracles.

I am overjoyed by the possibility of becoming a mom again to a living child, but Ella in no way "cancels out" the void that Ricky left. I miss him more than ever... and sometimes while I know it really is not necessary, I wish that I could reach up to heaven and reassure him that while she will be sleeping in his crib and swinging in his swing, those things will always have been his first and foremost. It's silly I know... since those worldly possessions have absolutely no value in heaven whatsoever... and Ricky likely has no recollection of them in the first place. But for me, they are still - all that is left of him here... and they mean a great deal.

I guess since I never get the chance to say all this to the people that I choose to lie to - the people who I really want to say it too... I might as well at least share it with cyberspace. I doubt much of this is really news to any of you... and I can't really tell you how grateful that makes me feel.

If you'll humor me... here is how I always wish the conversation would go:

"Is this your first?"

"Nope, second. My son lives in heaven, and I'd tell you all about him, but there really aren't enough minutes in the day... or even days in the week, to even begin to tell you just how amazing he was. I wish you could meet him - but I do have pictures...":