It has been 6 months, exactly, since you showed up as 2 happy, pretty pink lines. It wasn’t that big of a surprise, since I just KNEW I was pregnant with you. I was ecstatic! I ran and woke up your dad and shoved the stick in his face, saying “SEE?! I TOLD YOU!” and we laughed and smooched and snuggled and it felt so normal and so good.

We jumped headfirst into all things revolving around you. Everything I did, I had to think about you first. Can I eat this cold chicken salad? Can I use this heat pack on my back? How many crackers were too many crackers? How early can I leave work to nap without anyone noticing? Maybe I should eat some spinach. Barf. I was constantly nauseous and exhausted and couldn’t wait for 8pm every night, because 8pm was a perfectly reasonable time to go to bed, even though 6pm sounded much better to me. We bought a baby name book and went through it, page by page, name by name, trying out the ones we liked with our last name. Your last name. We planned how we would tell our families about you on Christmas, by wrapping up onesies and giving them to your grandparents as a last gift to open. We went to our first doctor’s appointment and it was confirmed again that yes, you were really coming! I drank water out of beer cans and fake wine poured from a flask to throw off any suspicion. It was the happiest your dad and I have ever been.

I am thankful for every single day I got to carry you, sweet baby. You taught me that this life is not about me at all; there is nothing in this life that is guaranteed, and you need to be grateful for what you are given every day. Everything is out of my control, and I just need to keep praising God for the enormous blessings I have been given and keep putting one foot in front of the other.

The week after Christmas – and losing you – felt like a living nightmare, where I would rather be asleep and unconscious than awake and living my reality. Without you. Moving on. The following months were a blur. We would’ve been 30 weeks today, baby, you and me. I’d be feeling you rocking and rolling around my belly and I’d pretend to be annoyed but really love every second of it. Maybe I’d be having some Braxton hicks. Maybe we would know if you were a boy or girl! How I wish I knew what you were. I can’t wait to find out someday.

But now, it feels like I have lived a lifetime since those dark days. So much has happened. Somehow I kept going. I think about you every single day, baby, and I look at your picture often. But I can finally talk about you without a lump in my throat. I don’t cry every day (even though I am definitely crying while writing this). I still miss you so much sometimes it makes my stomach ache. But I finally feel some peace. I am okay.

Love you forever!