Today the boys are the same gestational age as Reagan when she breathed her last. 21 weeks 3 days. I'm sure the emotional stress of that does nothing to help calm down the contractions. I've spent much of today in bed (no big surprise there) looking at our painting of Reagan and remembering our time together. Such sweet precious time. But not nearly long enough. And I am gripped with overwhelming fear that it will all happen again. That the boys aren't quite strong enough to handle all my body is putting them through and I will have to say goodbye to 2 more of my children before we even had a chance to know them. I love our boys so much and it is so hard to not be in control (there we go again with that). I want to take steps, follow a plan, and know that if I do everything right they will be okay. But I don't have that reassurance and there is nothing I can do. Just pray.