Will there come a time when my early morning thoughts stop revolving around milk and go back to revolving around “why can't the child(ren) let me have just five more minutes?” This morning I woke up again, all happy at the thought of pumping for one more day. Just one more day I tell myself. This is the pep talk that recovering addicts give themselves, trying to summon the courage to stay away from their drug of choice. Just take it a day at a time. This is the talk I give myself when faced with a dwindling supply and an adorable four pound baby boy who I want to thrive. I still don't know why nursing him is so important to me emotionally. Physically, he's doing just fine with the neosure and will continue to thrive. I just cringe internally when I remember how much is going against him.

Boy preemies don't thrive as well or as easily as girl preemies. I don't know why that's true, but it is. I don't even know if the doctors in their many years of practice know why this is. Boy preemies just tend to be smaller, to require more assistance, to be susceptible to certain infections, and in general not do as well. When our daughter was born and I was first learning all things preemie, I comforted myself with her femaleness. “It's a girl. That's a point in her favor.” And I would remember that in the middle of the night along with all those other things. While I was losing my mind with depression and fatigue I could remember it. For this baby? I don't know...

Which seems to be my mantra these days. I can say that over and over again without stopping. It puts my brain into a holding pattern without ever reaching a conclusion or a decision about anything. I can postpone anything if I just say that out loud. I don't know what I'm afraid of. I don't know what I want to do about it. I don't know how I'm going to be juggling both kids and their doctors, specialists, and therapists. I don't know how the Toddler will cope or regress when her brother comes into her life. I just don't know.

As complicated and scary as my first pregnancy was, it paled in comparison with the reality of a preemie daughter. As complicated and scary as the second was, I knew it would/will pale with the reality of a second. But this is not a trip to an uncharted wilderness. This is a journey back to someplace I've already been. I haven't been there in a while, and I don't remember some of the scenery, but I know that it will come back to me. I'm going to see old friends and places that are familiar to me. I'm going to have more than one moment of despair when I wonder if I'm completely lost and have forgotten to book a return ticket. I'm also going to know that this trip will be alright.

Do you remember way back when, when I would sit by the bouncy chair and cry because I couldn't see that those early days would ever end and could only have faith that somewhere, sometime, it would not be as hard? Now I have proof that they do in fact get easier. Now I can operate on more than blind faith. It's one more thing that will sustain me through the long days and nights of this upcoming year. Bring on the challenges. I'm ready.