I’ll see them today, both of them – with their little bulging bellies, expectant of all life is to bring them in just a few months. My heart aches, but it’s not because I long for it too –

My heart and my hands are full.

What I fear is being left behind,

set aside,


I’d thought the aching was because I wanted the swollen belly, the married name – but I think the ache is less about that and more the sorrow of ink drying and chapters ending.

Most days I love my life – and there was a time I never thought I’d say it and believe it. Depression, grief, loss – they cloud your belief that life is worth loving. But it is. I do.

What I don’t love – is that fear, that ache that you’ll be left behind.

But maybe – maybe I am the one who pushes myself in the box of being left behind.

I am the one that shuts the door, looks through the glass at them and I hold the key.

I hold the key to leave the box – to rejoice over swollen bellies and to sorrow over chapters ending. Two hands I remind myself – two hands: one to hold the sorrow, and one to hold the joy.