Grief.
I’m mad, angry and frustrated. Our little person didn’t even get a chance to make it out the womb. On one side of me, I’m kind of grateful because I’m finding out now instead of later but every other part of me is in agony. This is suppose to be a winning season for our family, do we try again? Do we stop all together to avoid another heartache? Can my body bear it ? Mentally I feel better, financially we are well, our relationship is stable, the Littles are more self sufficient but I am turning 35 in a few weeks so I know it can be harder. I feel I need to get away from everything and everyone. I am very grateful for Peyton and Dillon, more than anything in the world, they are my blessings. I get to witness God’s love every day through their existence.
The flutters. The fuckin flutters I can still feel. Knowing you’re dying inside of me. I carried your life and your death in my womb. The feeling is excitement and 48 hours later, disappointment. Im mad at my body, I’m curious about my chromosomes, im so tired of all the blood draws, every single day, a blood draw. My arms are bruised in the one spot that happens to be the best to draw from.
It’s because of you, I decided not to take anymore Tylenol, no more ibuprofen, I’m drinking raspberry red leaf tea daily, I want your life to be the reason I do better for myself and your future siblings.
I imagine you may have been a boy, like Dillon. Peyton made me more ill at the beginning of the pregnancy and with you, not so much. I just wish you were still growing. We had so many plans for you. Peyton’s been asking for a little sister AND you and Dillon would’ve been 4 years apart just like dad and uncle Johnny. You were surrounded by love and I know your loss won’t be in vain. My heart yearns for you my Little Love. Rest well.
“There’s resurrection after adversity.”
Gaylon Clark