every first Sunday of May.

on bereaved mother's day, thinking of those of you who like me, continue to 'longingly mother your precious child still' (Angela Miller). 

my heart never knew...

you've got me mad... completely off my head. but I'll tell you a secret. all the best people are.

-lewis carroll 

baby AP- dec. 05 | 2:53 pm | 7lbs | 19.5 inches

my heart never knew so much gratefulness or love. ❤️🙏🏼

waiting game...

i just want you for my own

more than you could ever know

make my wish come true oh

all i want for christmas is you 🎅🏽❤️

honoring you.

11:35 pm

one year without you, my dearest boy. 

forever empty without you.

forever wondering who you would have been. 

forever wondering why...

on the night you were born, i read to you "wherever you are, my love will find you" by nancy tillman. 

today, i read another nancy tillman book... because indeed, i'd know you anywhere, my love. 

reminiscing...

missing you like the very first day. hoping your journey has been as peaceful

as I intended it to be.

my heart still weeps.

A year ago today we terminated our second pregnancy. Words are not enough to describe the pain I felt. I never knew such intense pain. Pain so real it felt as if I myself slowly carved my heart out. Pain so real, that even thinking about that moment breaks the pieces my heart has left into a million more.

Pieces… All that’s left of me. Pieces of the girl I used to be, the dreams I used to have… how I used to smile… how I used to see the world. My life will forever be defined by my losses.

Somehow, these terrible experiences turned me into a person I no longer recognize. I managed to cut my friends list short. Not even my best friends or family know how I feel. I’ve become a person who shares very little moments with very few people. And I feel OK. I don’t feel the need to be surrounded by them or to cry on their shoulder. I no longer yearn for their company or support. I’ve learned to control my feelings and my need to share them, and only do so with less than a handful of people.

True… I laugh, I smile, I love… although never as intensely as I used to before I went off birth control.

I regret not taking more pictures… not holding my child for a second longer… not having analyzed him as thoroughly as I would have wanted to. I regret not telling him enough how sorry I was/am and how much I love him.

And despite all my sadness, nightmares, and grief, I am grateful to have found out about his condition in time to choose what was best for him and our family.

Today, I am also 28 weeks pregnant. It is frightening. Never have I been so pregnant or so scared in my life. The fear of losing this baby is constant… ever present. His kicks (supposed to be reassuring) scare me even more. I keep asking questions and going to Google for answers. I continue to have nightmares. I cry more often than not for all I’ve lost, and also because I have not allowed myself to enjoy this pregnancy. The cerclage is holding well so far, but every day I am frightened by something new. Fear of experiencing loss again, of what might happen… of what will happen once he is born... of the unknown. Will this fear ever leave me?

22w3d

I've been away from blogging because I did not want to jinx it. So far, everything was going well, and as stupid as it sounds, I thought maybe not blogging about my fears and sorrows might make things smoother. It didn't. My fears and anxiety are still present, so present I have barely connected with this baby because I'm so afraid of losing him. So intensely present I have only told a handful of friends, and avoid leaving the house for things other than work because I don't want to run into anyone and have to talk about it. 

I do feel naïve though. Somehow, I let down my guard as the second trimester progressed. I was starting to feel as if this might actually be my turn. I felt sorry for my baby, and imagined him asking questions about why there were no pregnancy pictures or social media posts to announce his arrival. 

Yesterday was supposed to be a routine exam. An exam I schedule every other week because I like to see my baby and hear the doctor tell me everything is going well, and that we should treat this pregnancy as a "normal" pregnancy while I tell myself nothing about it is normal. Instead, I was diagnosed with an incompetent cervix and will have a cerclage on Monday. All I can think about is if we make it that far. The cervix should be measuring more than 4 and is measuring 2.8. I am being realistic. Things have not always, scratch that, things have never gone right when it comes to me and pregnancies. Why should I think this time around will be different? 

I keep hoping it will, that somehow this baby is supposed to be with me and I'll be able to hold my Christmas miracle coming December. But I'm not expecting to. I'm wrapping my head around the fact that it might not happen, and that I have to be strong enough to face loss yet again. Somehow I'm at peace with this. I've understood that I've been through the worst, and that whatever happens, I'll be able to stand up yet again. 

adjusting expectations.