Freedom to Never Be A "Second Chance"

I started to write this blog a few days ago, when I'd finally hit my limit of well-intentioned but badly-executed responses to my pregnancy.  I'm resisting the urge to cut-and-paste the whole thing, and to verbally spew all of the heartache I was feeling that day; however, since it's not an accurate reflection of how I feel "today," I will refrain.
I'm allowed to change my mind; I'm Cassidy Cooley. (That I'm female, on hormones, and pregnant, may factor in, but I'm not going to use them as an excuse.)
Here are the facts of it:
I am, as of this writing, 6 months pregnant with my second--yes, my SECOND--child. I am having a boy. I will tell you his name if I want to, and if I don't, then that's my right.
This child is not a replacement.
This child is not a "second chance."
I had a beautiful baby girl, almost exactly 6 years ago, that died at 29 days of age from late-onset Group B strep with bacterial meningitis.
My daughter was not a mistake; I have never for a second thought she was a mistake, and do not attempt to tell me otherwise. Life is never a mistake.
God had a plan for my little girl.
God does not heal everyone, nor does He want to. Likewise, God does not like to see His children suffer.
That doesn't make sense to me, but it doesn't have to. I will not pretend that I am somehow so entitled that I should understand the patterns of a God Who is so incredible that He makes stars....and lungs...and baby-blue eyes...and dimples.
I will not pretend to understand God's will, and neither should you.
I did not stand in the way of my daughter's healing, and neither did my husband (and don't you dare try to tell me so)...
God is still glorified, even in the midst of our heartaches.
Jesus loves me.
He loves you, too.
This child is loved more than he will ever know; he is hoped for, prayed for, longed for...he is the answer to Hannah/Samuel prayers, prayers prayed so hard that I'm sure people thought I was insane.
This child has been dedicated to the Lord before I ever knew I was pregnant, just like his sister was, and just like his future siblings, God willing, will be.
We live in a sinful, broken world full of disease and corruption. We are guaranteed nothing except the love of God, death, and taxes.
We take nothing for granted, but we pray for everything.

People have said a myriad of things (again, best of intentions, worst of execution). Let me reiterate:
This is not a "do-over." My son is not the chance for us to "try this thing again." GOD DOES NOT NEED SECOND CHANCES, so please don't tell me that this is God's way of "making it up to us."  Really?
HE'S GOD. HE DOESN'T OWE US ANYTHING. He didn't "take" my daughter; she simply went home.
Please do not compare this pregnancy to my first, outside of the physical symptoms (which are interestingly different). Please do not compare this child to my first, as he is his own unique individual little self. I'm already discovering this in utero, as he has a whole different set of things that he responds to, than she did (she really, really liked "Proud Mary." I'm still trying to figure out his musical tastes. Seems like he prefers talk radio, like his daddy).
I have found myself repeating the old habit of smiling and nodding when people make their comments. I know they are so well-intentioned, and they're not all wrong. A lot of friends have said, "Gee, you must really be struggling with fear." You have no idea.
Fortunately, for me, God knew this was coming. Not only did He arm me ahead of time; He provided me with amazing resources that can redirect me when the "crazies" come on--you know, those thought processes that try to take over and force you into a full-blown panic attack? Turns out that I know a few people that can relate. My husband, whom I internally visualize as the bumper pads on a bowling alley when I get like that, is an incredible buffer to point me back to the right direction. He's not always gentle about it (ha!), but he's very good at it. I have one person in particular, who has opened herself up to take those panicked phone calls---"I feel like he's dropped--is that normal?  Am I okay?!?!?"--and listens, prays, and has provided immeasurable comfort. She's been in my shoes. I've avoided most secular music since I found out I was pregnant; turns out, that's been good for me. It's forced me to fall in love with all sorts of new-to-me Christian music, and to remember the beauty of the old stuff (Steven Curtis Chapman, anyone?). It's really good fuel for the defense. Yes, I struggle with fear, but I feel really insulated right now...God really does give us grace for times like these.
Granted, if I were to abuse that, and feed myself full of medical reports or data, I'd probably be apoplectic. I've stopped looking things up (Dr. Google, You're Fired!), and am relying on what I already know/questions to the real doctor, etc. My doctor's been fantastic at explaining all of my crazy questions (feel sorry for them--I'm surprised they don't know my phone number by heart), and that's been a big help. It's so different than my pregnancy with Hannah-I feel listened to, and that gives a lot of peace.
One of my friends is a prolific writer. I mean, she writes the stuff I wish I wrote; she says it with grace and skill that I wish I had; and even though we never see each other, I live vicariously through her pen. She reached out to me the other day, and asked how I was doing. She knew there was a certain measure of anxiety that I must be feeling; rather than focus on that part of it, she sent me a list of Scriptures that countered it. 
THAT was incredible. That's the kind of stuff that is manna from Heaven--God sends those kind of people with those kind of answers even when I'm not looking for it! It's just how He takes care of me...
So, all of that being said, I'm about to find myself in a few social situations that have me feeling very anxious (what am I saying? All social situations make me anxious. I cover it well--generally--but yep--I'm a closet-hermit), and I'm trying to mentally prepare myself for it. The holidays are coming, for one, and depending on which side of the family I'm hanging out with, anything can (and will) be said. I'm terrifically opinionated, but that doesn't mean that I stick up for myself very well. I'm going to have to buck up and do it.
I have a responsibility to this child to not allow people to speak things over him that are anything but uplifting.
I have a responsibility to this child to never allow him to think he is a "second chance."
I have a responsibility to this child to give him an environment that is free of my irrational/rational fears.
I have a responsibility to this child to never open the door for him to think that God failed...
To never him think that God dropped the ball...
To never make him think that God killed his sister...
To never make him think that God is to blame.
I have a responsibility to this child to let him get the flu without reacting with hysteria...
To let him scrape his knees when he falls...
To let him cry when he's sad...
To teach him that God is great,
That God is, above all, Good.
My friends and family have a responsibility to this child to do the same.
This child...my son...He is his own little person.
He is nobody's "second chance,"
And God doesn't need redemption.
He never failed.
Hannah's life, and her death, are independent of his life, and one should affect the other as little as possible, in both application, and in perspective.
I will not see myself, or my son, influenced in any other way. I can't say that I think this will be easy--it hasn't been, so far--but it is doable.
Consider your intentions, before you state that I'm having my "second chance" baby. Put yourself in my shoes--what are you really saying?
Sometimes, a simple "Congratulations! I'm happy for you guys!" is really all that needs to be said.  :)