Sad

I miss Nathan so much... a little more the last few days. I noticed that I tear up and cry more here lately. Part of me misses that part of grief and part of me hates it. I feel weak. But then again, I don't feel like I properly missing him unless I cry and am sad. Does that make sense?

Last night, I mentioned to Allen that I told a girl at work she could come by and get the crib. I just can't ever see another baby in it. I couldn't even finish saying anything. I just leaned over, against him, and started crying. I have so much in my head and everything seems to hit me at one time, just out of nowhere. Some days, I feel like its all caving in.

I've been reluctant to share but I scheduled my surgery for April 19th. When I went back for my OB checkup, they did an ultrasound. It was horrible. I started crying as soon as I got on the table. I didn't think... didn't expect it to be so emotional. I knew I wasn't pregnant and knew there wouldn't be anything on the screen. However, the reality of seeing the screen without a baby or heartbeat... it was hard.

In the end, they found that my uterus was lined with polyps and my uterine lining was very thick. He said that it could cause problems both getting pregnant and staying pregnant. I asked him if he thought I'd had it while pregnant with Nathan (I can't help but still wonder what I or my body did to make him die). He said no, that he thought it had all grown since having him. He said that my remaining ovary is stuck to my wall, behind my uterus. He said he didn't want to mess with it because we both know what'll happen. If he's able to free it and clean it up, the second he closes... it'll start growing back. He said with it being my only ovary/tube, he didn't want to mess with it and chance damaging the tube, ovary or eggs.

He decided to go in and do a hysteroscopy. I'm going to have it done at the hospital's day surgery center to save on costs. It's not an overnight procedure, so it'll be a little cheaper that way. Once I'm awake and stable, I'll be able to go home that same day.

While talking about the procedure, he surprised me. He said that since he's already going to have me asleep, he'll go ahead and do a laparoscopy also. My eyes got big and I just looked at him. I've been trying to talk him into a lap for years!! He has always refused because my endo is too severe and he will only do a laparotomy (complete c-section like cut). I had one in 2005, when I lost my left tube and ovary. It is major surgery, which is why I've wanted to avoid another one. He said that he is only agreeing to do it because I'll already be under. He said that I need to understand that he is only going in to get what he can... no promises of getting a lot cleaned up. He said he may also run some dye through the tube. (Something our RE did when I had my HSG done. I got pregnant with Cameron the following week.)

Even if I don't get pregnant, maybe I'll be able to get some pain relief. The last couple weeks have been rough. So much pain...

Well, I guess I better get ready for work. I'm so not looking forward to next week. We're on 12's. Ugh... Since we're off on Friday for Easter, they're going to try and shove 5 days worth of work into 4. We're working three 12-hour days and one 8-hour day and then off on Friday. I won't see Cameron but for a few minutes during the week... having to leave the house around 9:30am and not getting home until around 11pm. :-(

Back to the Grind

I'm going back into the clean room area at work, starting today. It sucks. Doing the DHR's and running backup for the PB office over the last year or so, I've gotten used to the luxury of not having to do the mandatory overtime that the rooms have been running. I've been able to volunteer to come in early and cover someone else's shift when I want to. This week, I'm having to work three eleven hour shifts plus two eight hour shifts. I don't mind the overtime so much, I just wish I could work over instead of going in the early. I hate going in early. On eleven hour days, I work from 11:30am until 10:30pm. I feel like by the time I get up, its time to go to work... especially with Cameron in preschool now. When I drop him off at 9am on Monday and Wednesday, I don't see him for the rest of the day. Its around 11pm before I get home and he's already in bed. I miss him already and hate that I'm not going to be there to pick him up after school. He gave me tight hug when I dropped him off at preschool this morning and said, "I'll miss you at work, mommy." It's going to be a long week...

I can't stand him not being with me, especially in a car. I know accidents can happen to anyone but there is just something about him being with me. I can't shake the thought that if something were to happen, I want to be with him. I want my face and my voice to be the last thing he sees or hears before leaving this earth. I want to be comforting and holding him and telling him how much I love him. I know that sounds morbid and negative. I don't mean to be. I'm realistic. I now know, first hand, that babies and children die. The thought of something happening to him, scares me. The thought of something happening to him without me there, terrifies me.

I guess I just have to suck it up and deal with it. With Allen not working, I can't afford to lose my job or try and search out another one. I'm carrying all of us on my benefit package, which I worked hard to get. (I spent several years temping at places, not getting any insurance or benefits.) After paying the bills this week and getting groceries, I have about $35 left. It has to last me with gas and anything else until Friday. :-(

The last couple days, I feel like everything is just minutes from caving in on me... so much on my mind. Last night, I finally forced myself to bed around 2am... only to lay there and stare at the ceiling, trying to get my mind to shut down.

big sigh.

8 Months

8 months...

Each month I add another number and I get farther and farther from that day when it all changed. He's now been gone twice as long as he lived. That hurts my heart.

For the most part, I'm doing okay. I have more "moments" than "days"... if that makes sense. I don't remember the last time I had a "bad day" all day. I struggle with moments of sadness, anger, guilt, etc... but not whole days. That makes me... unsure. Unsure about where I am on this journey. I know people say that grief has no timetable and that we all respond and grieve in our own way, but I can't help but wonder if I'm doing it "right". Am I at the right stage, at the appropriate time? Am I missing him less than I should? Am I missing him too much? Does my mind spend too much or too little time wondering, wishing that he were here?

He would be 3 months old, if he were here. I wonder if he would've been a happy, smiley, content baby (like his brother) or would he have been a cranky, colicky baby? I try not to idolize him because I know he wouldn't have been perfect. I try to be realistic. If he were here, I'd be complaining of the lack of sleep, etc. I'm not stupid, I still remember those early days of Cameron's infancy. I had horrible migraines... which I learned, in my case, are only triggered by lack of sleep. I never had them before Cameron and have had very few since he began sleeping through the night.

Here's some pictures of Cameron that were taken from 1 to 3 months old... just because I feel the need to share him. ♥ I miss these days... (There is a back, play and forward button at the bottom, if you scroll over the picture.)



I found out over the weekend, via Facebook, that my former supervisor's great-granddaughter passed away on Friday, March 16th. My heart instantly reached out, silently across miles and time, to her and her family. The baby was 5 months old. Her name was Myshelle Elizabeth. From what I understand, they are thinking it was SIDS. This is the picture on her obituary. Beautiful, isn't she?

I'm embarrassed to admit now, after seeing this precious girl's picture, I let anger take control of my emotions for far too long that day. The reaction people had, at work, infuriated me. If I hadn't rode to work with my mom that day, I would've left... that's how mad I was. They expressed so much compassion and sympathy for her and her family. They had a card going around as I walked in the door.

Yes, I know it was nice and the right thing for them to do. I know that the world doesn't revolve around me but it was a sting to the face. (Not quite a slap in the face.) The card I received was over a month after I lost Nathan and had already been back to work for over a week. It really felt like an "Opps, we forgot... I guess we should get a card" kinda thing. It really bothers me how differently people view and react to miscarriages vs. stillbirth and infant death. What made her 5 months on this Earth more important, more "worthy" than my son's 4 months in my womb? It just bothers me and I think always will... more than it should.

I got online, via my cell phone, and put in a prayer request on one of my support boards that night. I didn't explain the situation. I just told them that my emotions and thoughts needed a lot of help and prayers. Then I prayed, harder than I've prayed in a while... another thing I'm embarrassed of. I don't like letting anger take over me. I don't like the way it feels... especially a situation like that. I'm sitting here, angry at people for treating her death differently than's Nathan... yet, I'm doing the same thing. Losses can't be compared, yet I'm comparing.

The amazing thing is, that within 15-20 minutes of posting that and praying, I could feel the anger and emotion leave my body. It was a good feeling and I'm thankful for an answered prayer. Please keep little Myshelle Elizabeth's family in your thoughts and prayers. They are beginning a very long and painful journey.

Pregnant Women

I really wish I could get to a place of peace, resolution or whatever. I hate feeling like this but I don't know how to stop. I thought I was having a pretty decent day today. I stopped and got something to eat on the way to work this afternoon. I was standing there, waiting for my food, when I looked up and noticed a woman (facing away from me) sliding out of her booth. She looked like any other person... until she stood up and turned around. BOOM... big, huge belly. I mean she looked like she was ready to deliver. I just looked up at the ceiling and was like 'Really, God? I needed that reminder. Thanks.' :-( Then, I was at work tonight and a co-worker (who is expecting a boy in early May) was standing in front of me, while I was talking to another co-worker (who she was standing beside of). She stood there rubbing her belly the ENTIRE time. I realize that it may have been out of habit or unintentional... but it really irritated me. It was like 'Really?!?! Do I need a reminder slapped in my face that YOU are pregnant!?!?!' (At about the same gestation I was when I lost Nathan, as a matter of fact.) I realize that the world is full of pregnant people and I have to learn to live with that. I just wish it didn't hurt so much to see them. It makes me wonder... how many times, when I was pregnant with my older son and/or Nathan, did I pass a mother who was grieving for her baby? How many women looked at my pregnant belly and happy smile and cried inside? It really makes you think about the people you pass or come in contact with. How many people did I see or pass today... who are experiencing the worst day of their life?

Perspective

It's amazing how the smallest things can change your perspective on a situation.

It has finally turned into Fall-like weather. Today was rainy and cold... a perfect day to just stay home, hide under the covers and feel sorry for myself. However, I went on to work and was determined to finish the work week with a halfway decent attitude. The beginning of the week started out kinda shaky with the return of a co-worker on maternity leave and the announcement of my other co-worker's baby's birth. On November 1st, they had a baby boy. His birth was a physical reminder, that I should've been next. I was due 7 weeks after her. :-(

Anyway... I went in tonight and the majority of the afternoon went smoothly. Then right before first break, a co-worker walked past me. He used to work in my department on another shift. Now, he works in another department but I see him on occasion in the hallways. He walked past and said, "Hey. How are you?" to which I replied, "Okay. How are you?" It made me think for a moment about a post I read the other day by Josh at Jack at Random. A couple seconds later, I heard him call my name. I turned around and he was standing a little ways away from me. He looked nervous, hesitant almost. He said, "I was just wondering... is everything okay? You seem different. I didn't know if the job was getting to you or what... I just... I just noticed a change in you." Still thinking about Josh's post, I hesitated... stumbling over my words. I'm still trying to figure out how to answer those seemingly innocent questions. How are you? Is everything okay?

I finally just kinda blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "I'm okay. Just trying to figure out how to... uh... ya, know... get past everything. (To which I got a confused look.) You're not in our department anymore so you may not have heard but we lost a baby in July." The instant I said those words, I saw such a change in him. Not a nervous "oh, crap... I just stuck my foot in my mouth" look but a genuine, sincere look of sympathy. He said, "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I'm so sorry to hear that."

We talked for a few more seconds and then parted ways... me back to my paperwork, and he, back to his department. A few minutes passed and I just couldn't get my mind off the conversation. I felt bad. I hate making people feel bad and that's what I felt... like I'd made him feel bad. He couldn't have known the answer to such a simple question would be so loaded. On my way to break, I stopped by to talk to him. I told him that I wanted to let him know that I sincerely appreciated him taking the time to stop and ask about me. Very few people have asked how I'm doing and truly stopped to hear the answer. (Hence the reason, that most of the time, it's a quick generic "Okay. How are you?") He seemed to honestly be okay with everything so I told him a brief version of the story, expecting to hear another "I'm so sorry."

Instead, he told me that he and his wife had also experienced the loss of a child during the 2nd trimester. He said that they had a small, family funeral and had buried their son on family property. He said that he was glad that we had had the conversation because he was going to talk to his wife, once he got home. He said that, as a man, he just wanted his wife to move on and get over it. He couldn't fix the situation and he felt helpless. They went on to have another son and really never talked about their lost child. He said that seeing the change in me, made him realize just how hard it must've been for his wife to not have him support her more, to let her talk about their baby and the experience. Later on, in the night, another co-worker mentioned her experience with an early miscarriage... in which she miscarried, in the car, on the way to the hospital. I don't even remember how the conversation came up, I just remember thinking, "Wow, two co-workers that have lost a child. I would have never known."

It's amazing how the universe works. We all live on this planet, yet we all have different lives but somehow each life affects another, and then another and yet another. My perspective on life has changed so much with Nathan's birth. I don't claim to know all the answers but I do know that there was a reason for Nathan's short life. Nothing in my life or with my situation changed tonight. It does, however, make my grief a tad bit easier to bear... knowing that because of my conversation about my son... a woman that I've never met is going to have a more understanding, loving, caring husband tonight. Call it coincidence, call it fate, call it luck. I call it a plan... God's plan. In a tiny way, MY Nathan... had a hand in reconnecting that marriage just a little bit. That changes my perspective of my loss. I didn't lose anything... he's still with me and always will be. In fact, I gained quite a bit. I can't begin to explain everything he's given me. I miss him... that doesn't change and never will. However, on days like today... I can actually SMILE when I think of my baby boy. I can almost picture him sitting on a cloud, holding a little cupid bow and smiling. And for today, right at this very moment, it's okay with me.

The Jesus Card

It's been 3 months... shouldn't I be crying less, missing him less? It seems like the more time that passes, the harder it is. I'm starting to have good days but the emotional ones are creeping back in. I think it's because I'm getting closer to my due date... or what should've been my due date. I should be 31 weeks pregnant and getting ready to welcome my baby boy into the world in less than 8 weeks.

Last night, I started crying at work. It's the first time I've done it and not been able to stop myself. I'm normally so good at the "Doing good. How are you?" response and the fake, plastered smile. It's become my trademark and I've come close to perfecting it. Luckily, since I work second shift, the office staff is gone. I took my work and went into the conference room so nobody would see me. Later in the night, I ran into a co-worker who lost her young adult son in a car accident last year. She asked me how I was doing and it just went from there. We were both still standing in the hallway 45 minutes later crying and talking, totally oblivious to the people walking past us. I saw the uncomfortable looks as they passed by but at that very moment... I didn't even care if they saw me cry. We both confided some things in each other and just took the time to miss our boys. It felt really good to talk to someone at that very moment. She didn't change the subject, she didn't walk away, she didn't pacify the situation and tell me everything would be okay. She simply held me, let me talk and cry and I'm thankful to her for that.

I came across the link below tonight, via a friend, on Facebook. I truly believe it was exactly what I needed to read tonight. I'm still struggling with my feelings towards God and I think I will be for a long time. But I'll get there. I know He's patient and understanding. He can take my temper tantrums and occasional silent treatment. He's not finished with me yet.

http://internetcafedevotions.com/2011/10/the-jesus-card/

Variety of things...

I've been meaning to come on here but it seems like there are not enough hours in the day. So many things have happened over the last week or so. I don't even remember where to begin so forgive me as I may jump from one subject to the next.

I had a co-worker ask me, last Tuesday, if I would spread the word about another co-worker's baby shower. (They had changed the date.) I realize that I'm not in a room and I have "free access" to other people throughout my building. That said, however, did I REALLY need to be the person to ask? The shower was for the husband because he is in our department. His wife is in another department on the same shift. (Her department threw her a shower the week before.) She and I were about 5-6 weeks apart. Like I wanted to be reminded that they are having a baby shower because she IS still pregnant. Then come to find out... a co-worker I told, forgot about it and I guess some others did too. So guess who got blamed? Yeap, me. I heard that the original co-worker blamed me because I was supposed to let everyone know. WHATEVER!?!?! I know that I put aside my feelings and did what she asked me to do. I wasn't ugly or jealous. Hell, I even bought them a cake and a baby shower gift! I'm truly happy for them but it still hurts to know that I should be going into my 30th week of pregnancy this Friday.

I found out last week that a friend at work is expecting. Apparently, everyone else knew but she was scared to tell me. She didn't want to hurt my feelings. That meant a lot to me. It took everything in me to walk up and give her a hug without crying. I teared up and have to walk away after giving her a hug and telling her congratulations. She's due in May. I should've had a 5 month old by then. :-(

I finally met a fellow baby loss friend. She lost her son a week after I lost Nathan. We met online through a mutual friend. She and I attended our local 'Walk to Remember'. It was a beautiful ceremony.

I got pouches in the mail last week and today from two of my Birth Club friends. They are beautiful!!! I was telling a co-worker about them tonight and she mentioned that she crochets and would love to make some blankets/pouches/hats! Yipee... I'm so excited!!!

A Good Weekend

It has been a good weekend... for which I'm thankful. It didn't start out so great on Friday and I was wondering if it was going to be all bad. I went to work and just before time to come home, a co-worker and I were approached by two other co-workers. They mentioned that they were going to do a cake raffle to raise money for another co-worker, who is out because of a car accident. I know I'm being emotional and over-sensitive but it kinda hurt my feelings. Two departments, that I don't even work with, gave me a card and money... one department before I even returned to work. I got a card from my department towards the end of the week when I returned, after I posted a thank you card for the other departments. It was appreciated but it almost felt like a "whoops, I guess we need to give" card. I was out almost a month. It felt like they all just forgot about me during that time and once I was back to work, they realized they hadn't done anything. I don't want people's pity but it would've been nice to have my loss acknowledged when it happened, not more than a month later. Another co-worker lost everything in a fire right before I had Nathan. They had money and furniture donations going to her the day after it happened. I know, I know... I'm being ungrateful. It just kinda bothered me. I should be happy that I received a card at all. What's the saying... "better late than never"?

Anyway, I got home and told Allen about it... which of course ended up with me crying. He and I talked for a bit. My therapist had been urging me to talk to him. Things haven't really changed for us but I feel a little better that he knows how I feel and I know where he is (as far as him acting the way he does about it). He's not trying to be mean or insensitive... it's just how he is. He was very close to his brother and he rarely talks about him. He basically feels like it won't change anything and that there's no point in living in the past. You remember them but don't dwell on the what if's or might have been's. If only I could get my mind wrapped around that idea... but I just can't. I asked him if he though what I was doing with Nathan's project was a good thing. He said, "Helping people is always a good thing." It felt good to feel like I had his approval and blessing. I'm not saying I needed it but it felt good to have my decision supported by him.

My sister-in-law and her husband went to PA to visit family for the weekend. They came home today and she brought a beautiful prayer shawl back. Their cousin, Hope made it for me. Isn't it beautiful?!?!

Most of this weekend has been spent being lazy. I didn't even get out of my pj's until almost 1pm today. I've got one load of laundry done. Well, almost done... they are dry in the dryer. ;-) I guess tomorrow will be spent trying to get things back in order for the work week to begin again.

Back to Work

Well, I survived my first day back to work. It went okay, I guess... pretty much how I thought it would go. I had several people tell they were glad I was back and that they missed me. A couple people told me that they were sorry to hear about what happened. Most people just ignored me. Only one person actually mentioned my son... one person. It hurt but I expected it.

I never realized what a "taboo" subject it was until now. People are just not comfortable talking about the loss of a baby... especially during pregnancy. I can't imagine the heartache women must have suffered all these years. My grandma lost a daughter, who she named Lenny. Lenny lived for 16 days and my grandpa never allowed grandma to see or hold her. Mama said that grandma hated him until the day she died because of it. Back then, the hospital took care of the babies remains and women were sent home. Those lost babies were never added to the family tree or talked about again. All these years later, I don't even know what was wrong with Lenny or why she died.

As much as I hate myself for giving Nathan up so quickly... I try to remind myself that I'm lucky. (As much as one can be in this situation.) I got to see, hold and name him. There are so many women out there who never got that kind of closure. They'll always wonder what gender their baby was, wonder what he/she looked like, etc. I got all that... and I thank God for allowing me that privilege. As much as it hurt, I'm blessed that I got to have that time with my son. On the bad days, I just have to remind myself of that.

I wrote the following on August 9th on my Late Pregnancy Loss support board. One of the moms was beating herself up for some feelings she was having. I remembered it tonight and I think I need to read my own writing...


I think we all struggle in our own ways. To each of us... our loss is worse... because WE are experiencing it. It's not that you're being mean... you're hurting and you can't understand how anyone else thinks that they could possibly hurt as much as you do. And honestly, they don't. Even though we're all greiving our losses... they are just that, OUR losses. We can say "I understand what you're going through". We can't say "I know how you feel" because we don't.

I'm sure the 1st trimester moms, are jealous of us. Perhaps, they wish they'd been able to deliver, hold and see their baby and know the gender. I think it would have been harder, for me, to have closure if I hadn't been able to see him and name him.

I find myself sometimes jealous of women who carried their baby longer. They got more time, more kicks and a bigger baby to hold. They had time to develop more memories with their baby... even if it was while they were inside them. They didn't have to worry that they would bruise their baby just by holding them. (I don't think.) Their baby was bigger and more developed... and, I imagine, a tad less shocking than your baby and mine. Nathan was only 6 1/2" long (about the same as yours) and even though he was developed and looked exactly like a tiny baby... it was a shocking experience. I didn't get the tiny, white baby that I imagined in my mind... I had a purplish baby that fit in one hand. Whether the staff tries to prepare you or not, no parent expects or imagines their baby like that. Later gestation families get footprints and (most) get a baby outfit or blanket to wrap their child in. They had moments and memotoes of their baby that most earlier loss women will never have. Part of me, is jealous of you... because you DID get those things and our babies were close in age. I wish I had footprints and a blanket to hold when I want to cry and feel closer to my baby.  I think it's only natural for all of us to wish we'd had more than what we had. 

Then again, I don't know how much harder it would have been had I carried Nathan longer. To have more time bonding, to go through a more difficult, painful labor and still have the same end result. To already have his nursery complete and have to come home empty-handed and take it all apart... that would have been torture. (We only had his room painted, the crib and glider bought... which has been bad enough.) My heart broke into a million pieces when my friend told me about having to return everything after her loss... having to explain the reason for the returns was because her baby had died at 30 weeks gestation.

I think also the thing that moms, who miscarry vs. stillbirth, struggle with is public perception. Not only are we trying to greive, we feel that we have to justify our grief. When a woman has a stillbirth, the baby is recognized more as a baby. Most of the time, sympathy and support is given to the familiy, without question... as they lost a child. When a woman miscarrys, she is looked at as "oh, it was just a miscarriage". They don't look at the fact that we ALL lost a baby. We were ALL emotionally invested in our pregnancies. Or at least that's how I feel.

The friend I mentioned earlier, who's baby died at 30 weeks... she received money, cards, flowers, food... as if a family member had died. (I don't mean that as a family member didn't die... I just didn't know how else to word it.) They had a funeral and family and friends were able to see their baby and grieve with them. We had Nathan creamated and my mom and I are the only people who saw him. We are the only people that know/saw he even existed. My husband didn't even see him. I can count on one hand the number of people who have said my son's name or mentioned him. I haven't received anything except a couple get well cards. While those are MASSIVELY appreciated... I wasn't sick. I lost a child. I was induced, I went through labor, I held my son, I had a baby. They don't see that, though.

The end result in every situation is the same... we are ALL parents who've lost a child/children. We are all traveling this path together and, point blank... it sucks.

I got two cards and some money tonight at work. I waited until I got home to open the card because I knew it would make me cry. The lady who gave it to me lost her young adult son to a car accident almost a year ago. I wasn't expecting the money... so it was a nice surprise. Amazingly enough, the card and money were from people on 3rd shift... people I don't even normally work with! How generous and thoughtful is that!?!? I got a card and money last week from the warehouse department (yet another group of people I don't normally work with). I wrote a thank you note and placed it on the message board at work tonight. I wrote it for warehouse department because it was before I realized 3rd was giving me a card/money. I told them thank you and that every dime given is going into Nathan's project.

I got an email back from the publishing company and they are going to let us purchase the support books at 51% off and charge 1/2 the cost of shipping!!!!! I'm so excited about that! Beth, at Compassionate Passages, had given me the contact information to get in touch with the publisher. They offer the same book through their program and have offered to donate 5 books for our cause! That is FIVE families who will have a book to help them understand their feelings while they grieve for their baby. How awesome is that?!?!

My niece, Kasey, is letting us borrow her sewing machine until I can save up for one. I'm so excited... I think I'm going to get some cheap fabric this weekend so I can start learning to sew and get some practice on it. Things are slowly falling into place for Nathan's project and I'm excited to see where it's all going. Excited is a nice feeling... a feeling I haven't had in a while.

Back to Reality

Its back to reality tomorrow... well, my "new" reality I guess I should say. Tomorrow will be my first day back to work since Nathan died. The sun comes up and life goes on...

Part of me is nervous and scared... part of me is ready. I know that I need to get back and on my feet. We've got bills coming in that need to be paid and short-term disability only pays so much. I'm just nervous about people's reaction. How crazy is that?!?! I feel like I'm in high school all over again. I know... I really need to worry less about what other people think. It's easier said than done.

I know one of three things is going to happen:

1. People are going to come up to me and tell me how sorry they are; which is going to make me cry; which is going to make them feel bad; which is going to make me feel bad for making them feel bad
2. People are going to ignore me like the plague and pretend nothing ever happened; which is going to make me feel sad. It'll be like Nathan never existed and was never important.
3. There is someone, I'm sure, who won't have heard what happened and, at some point, they will ask how the baby is doing or if I know what I'm having yet. Then once I tell them... it'll be a repeat of scenario #1.

Aghhhhhh... why did this happen?

< 10 minute gap >

Cameron just woke up and couldn't find his paci. I went in to help him find it and tuck him back in. I laid there beside his bed, rubbing his back, looking at his face against the light shining from his closet. (He's afraid of the dark so he has to have the closet light on and the door cracked.) I can't help but wonder what Nathan would look like. I saw what he looked like at almost 17 weeks gestation... but at birth, at one year, at three years... what would he have looked like? I just can't help but wonder what God's plan is... why us, why MY baby? What possible purpose involves taking a baby 4 months into a pregnancy? I just don't understand... and I don't think I ever will.