i should be having a baby today.
today i should be laid up in a hospital bed, celebrating life, tears of joy spilling from my eyes, congratulations pouring from mouths and hearts of family and friends alike.
i should be counting little toes. and breathing in new baby breath. feeling the softest of skin against my cheek. drinking it in.
my sweet boy would be holding a baby, beaming proudly, and saying in his perfectly high-pitched voice “awww, he’s ah-doh-wable!”
i should be hearing camera clicks going off like crazy, quick to capture the love in the room.
i would be oblivious to the sharp pain from my freshly cut belly, reminding me with every laugh and movement that i had just brought a life into the world. instead i would be gazing at amazing husband with love and adoration, so enamored with our growing family and proud that the rocky journey that led to that moment was finally over.
but it isn’t.
there are no congratulations.
no joyful tears.
no camera clicks. no revolving door of visitors.
instead there is fresh pain, deep in my soul. i hide it well, on the outside. with smiles and forced laughter. but there is no hiding it from my thoughts. my memory. i remember clear as day seeing 2 lines on the pregnancy test, 9 months ago, and thinking “finally! this is it!!”
i remember hoping for sweet relief from our nightmare of loss.
there will be tears today. more than those that already have fallen from my eyes. i will pick up amazing son and hold him tighter, and let them fall. and thank my stars i was allowed to have him.
and the holidays will march on. reminders of all that we have, and at the same time, all we do not. and i will smile. and laugh. and carry on. but i will never forget.
oh my sweet butterfly, no one ever wanted anything more, than i wanted you. may my light and love find you, wherever you are.