Monday, January 17, 2011

Dear Blackberry

Dear Blackberry,

Today was your due date.  Granted, if you were still with us, you might have already arrived by now, or you might be a stubborn little one and decide to hang around in there for awhile.  All that considered, today is the day I've been dreading since that fated day in June when I heard Dr. S say the words, "I'm so sorry, hun, but I don't see a heartbeat."  As my world came crashing down in that moment, I knew that January 17th would arrive and I'd be whisked back to that moment over and over again. 

Tomorrow is your daddy's birthday, and I know how much he wishes he were sharing it with you.  I'm hoping that by tomorrow, I'll be all cried out.  I know it's probably not going to happen.  You'd think that I'd already have hit that point, but you find surprising ways to pop into my mind.  Sometimes, it knocks me on my back with grief.  Sometimes, I manage to hold it together and think fondly of the things that might have been.  Always, however, it fills me full of wishes.

I wish I knew what went wrong.  I wish I could have known what I could do to have stopped you from leaving us.  I wish I could walk by the ultrasound department at the hospital I work at without having flashbacks of the "confirmation ultrasound."  I wish I could hear other people's pregnancy announcements without crying my eyes out.  I wish I had more to show for my 4+ years of infertility than a memorial tattoo on my foot.  I wish I were holding you right now instead of writing this blog post.  I wish I hadn't run into your ultrasound picture and Asher's "big brother" t-shirt while packing to move into our new house.  I wish I could see God's plan in all of this, because I know He has one.  I wish that anything anyone could say would make me feel better.

Yet, here I sit...
all wished out...
clutching a box of kleenex...
an empty womb...
and no baby to show for it. 

I miss you, my sweet baby.  Even though I only "knew" you for 10 weeks and 3 days, I miss you more than words on a screen could ever express.  While there may come a time when you don't pop into my head every day, know that you will never be forgotten.  Your daddy, brother and I love you and wish you were here with us.

Until we meet again...

Mommy