#anotherstatistic

I’ve gone back and forth about whether or not to post a private journal entry from yesterday, because it is incredibly personal and emotional on so many different levels. I have a feeling it will open up some doors for people that feel the need to intrude into our lives, so I will preface with this: If you have questions for Daniel or myself, feel free to give us a call. If you don’t have our numbers, we probably aren’t interested in discussing it with you.

Yesterday was a very difficult day for me, and I’m sure for him as well. I’ve never been one not to talk about something because it was uncomfortable. For myself, I need to say these words in an open and public format to recognize and acknowledge a life that meant the world to me. October is pregnancy and infant loss awareness month, and I am the one in four. Last night, I held the first outfit I ever bought for my baby and cried myself to sleep. My hopes in sharing our story is that the pain, loss, and grief we have felt and are still feeling might bring comfort to the other women and families that have to endure it as well.

Today was your due date. Today, I should be holding a beautiful baby with ten perfect fingers and toes. I should be recovering from a grueling labor, overwhelmed by the love I feel for a teeny tiny human. I should be celebrating with your dad about the greatest thing to ever happen to us, about starting our family.

Instead, I’m at work, pretending today is like any other. My arms are empty, I’m well rested, your dad is back in Illinois, and I’m alone.

I had dreams for you, little one, very big dreams. I imagine what you would look like, how your cries would sound, what it would be like to inhale that unexplainable “baby smell” from your soft little head. I dreamt about the kind of person you would become, what your smile would be like, and how you would change the world. I knew you were inside me long before the tests or doctors ever confirmed it. From the moment I realized you were there, my single greatest instinct was to protect you, to shield you from any kind of pain or suffering that I could. I loved you with a ferocity that I cannot put into words. You were nothing more than a small little bean that I never got the chance to see, but I would have traded my life for yours without hesitation.

I dreamt of the things you would do, first steps and first words, first illness, first heartbreak. In those few short weeks with you, the world was the most beautiful place I’d ever known. You were the most beautiful thing I’d ever known. And then, you were gone.