Living right now is like walking through a minefield. The most innocent occurrence or random thought causes that stabbing chest pain or gasp of breath and the thought, oh yeah, my baby is dead.
I was at my neighbor's house for some play time for Kira (3 year old daughter) and I told her the baby (the neighbors 3 month old son, I am a glutton for punishment) was sick. She said, "Is he going to die?" In her little world babies get sick and then they die. How sad is that?
I roll over onto my stomach and realize I can't feel my uterus anymore, it has shrunk down to normal.
I remember that my brother's birthday is in 2 weeks and then remember that I have 3 birthdays, including mine and Kira's, to get through before I even pass Aiden's due date.
All the many things I worried about while pregnant just don't matter, and actually, they never did. I could have taken that migraine medicine the whole time, it wouldn't have made a damn bit of difference.
Holding my neighbor's son made my breasts ache - they are still trying to make milk.
I wonder when I will get through five minutes without a reminder. Thank god with the sleeping pills I can't remember my dreams. I know I'm dreaming of him and our loss but I don't remember the details. That's one small mercy.