I am so thankful that all you ever knew is love.
These tools were available to me and I chose not to use them. I didn’t choose for you to die, but my choices did not save you. I wish that I had saved you.
You made me a mother, and my arms ache without you. So I carry your elephant, and I wish you were here, and I think about the crazy duality of this year.
I read these stupid memes and I want to say, “well of course my attitude must be influencing me,” but I know that can’t be true. Because there was never a moment when I didn’t feel full of love and want and excitement for you.
I think of all the signs the providers brushed off. I think of the other signs I just didn’t see. My heart hurts. I wish I could go back in time. I wish I had saved you.
It will never be okay that you’re gone.
I would give up everything to have you here.
I loved you from the moment I saw that second blue line. I loved you from my first dream of you. I loved you for so much longer than you were actually alive–Before, and After, and all the spaces in between.
I’ve felt like such a horrible person because I’ve been so numb this week. Now I sit in my car and my eyes fill with tears, and I realize that what I dread more than being asked if I have children is not being asked anything at all.
This isn’t the trip I planned for us. I will always wish you were here. Sweet dreams, little one. I love you.
Romeo gave you lots of belly kisses when I was pregnant. He will always be one of my favorite people. You should be here too.
I feel like I don’t even know what I’ve lost of you.
Last Thanksgiving my morning sickness was so bad I couldn’t stand the smell of any food, let alone meat. I don’t know if you would have been a vegan, but you sure started out that way. Happy tofurkey day.
Over the past few years, I’ve come to view birthdays as a means of marking time, another year forward in the future I had planned. I had so many plans!
I’m awake now, and I hate it. But what I hate almost as much are the expectations on me. I eat and I sleep and I put on my uniform and people assume that because I do these things, I must be okay.
In one of my earliest conversations, my friend said something along the lines of, “Of course–there’s something so special about children; if you want to be a mother, then go forth and do.”
The Miranda from Before knew excitement. The Miranda from Before had plans. She mapped out her life and she felt you move and she lived in a world where passion equals reality. She loved you with the careless assumption that you would always be alive to treasure.
I gave you my name. I wish I could have given you the world.
I remember the day I found out you were real. The breathless wait, that faint second line, the way my heart jumped into my throat and I gave a little scream. I was scared to believe you were true.
They left me alone. After you were born and we had taken pictures and they checked all my vitals and everything was as okay as it was ever going to be, they all packed their things and went away.
One of the first photos I took with elephant. You should have been here.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m angry and defensive because it’s the only way to protect your memory.
Happy Halloween little man. I love you.
This is such a bittersweet day. I loved this house. I was so excited to share it, to share my whole world with you. You would have been four months old tomorrow. You died four months ago today.
I don’t know why I’m surprised when I cry out of nowhere. Maybe I feel disloyal for having good days?
I’ve never been very worried about the things most people consider dangerous. I’ve deployed to war zones; I’ve gone scuba diving; I’ve shot handguns, rifles, bow and arrow.
My head knows I did everything I thought was right, but my heart will always wonder. Why didn’t I want to know more?
I am thankful for new connections. I am thankful to remember that all you ever knew was love.
So many people talk about God’s plan, say that they are comforted because their child is with God, because their loss must be part of some greater meaning. It just feels like a cop out to me.