The Altering of a Beating Heart

So I typed a post up last night on my phone, but my phone is kind of a bitch sometimes and managed to lose it. I don't remember what it said because I was in the process of falling asleep when I wrote it, but I'm sure it was about Sara and the baby, who I've come to call D.P. since Sara likes to call it her Dark Passenger.

There are still some things that I'm not sure I'm ready to admit even to just myself, but I've been writing her letters that I have no intention of sending that explore those things. It feels kind of strange, but I think this whole situation has made me calmer and more determined.

I've got a life to get in order. It's the only way I can think to get myself closer to getting Sara back, pregnant or not. I'm in love with Sara and I can't imagine not loving this baby, no matter how it came into existence, because it is a part of her.

It's almost scary how quickly I accepted all of this and how much I long to be there. I ache to hear the baby's heartbeat. I ache to see the baby move on an ultrasound. I ache to hold Sara's hand when she's scared that she'll lose the baby and comfort her. I ache to be able to take care of Sara.

This is life-altering. Not only for Sara, but for me as well.

I thought surely my heart would burst when she first told me she was pregnant. I thought it would burst because suddenly all my love for her was kerosene and the news was a spark. Instead my heart just swelled and now houses all my love for Sara plus a constantly growing love for her baby.

Strange. So strange.
Yet pleasant.