She would have been three months old this past week. How sweet. She would have been about 2 months away from going home. My sweet baby girl. I was able to print some of her pictures and put a few into frames this week. I put a couple on my desk at work, and I was surprised to find myself feeling very peaceful when I looked at her. I am proud she is my daughter and fought so hard. She was such a pretty little thing. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time so I could just scoop her up and snuggle with her, even if it were only for a few minutes. Sometimes I wonder if she would have survived had we not done anything to her. Who knows? But we did the best we could, making the decisions that we thought were best at the time. And I'm happy with that.
I'm amazed at how many women have had a similar experience. One thing that irks me though is when people say, "Oh, yeah. I know so and so who was so many months pregnant and then had a miscarriage. She went through the same thing." No, that's not the same thing. That is unfortunate, yes, but it's not the same thing. My daughter lived. She lived for three weeks, and then she died. We formed a bond with her (our bond had started months ago, however) and were looking forward to bringing her home.
She said hello to me yesterday. I met with a client, and he had on socks with giraffes on them. Of all the things! They weren't gaudy socks. They were discreet and tasteful, but I did see them peeking out from his shoes. I smiled brightly. My baby said hi to me.
Part of me wants to get pregnant right away. I want to start another life to nurture because I'm so ready to. But I stop myself because we want to pay off things for the next couple of years, and part of me wants to enjoy our freedom for a while. We're going to take quite a few trips this year. I can't wait. We're going to Key West in three weeks! Whoopee!
One thing that is so different for me is myself. I'm heavier, of course, as I still have about 10 pounds to lose before I'm back to pre-baby shape. When I look at myself in the mirror and see my extra flab I get sad because I think of her. That flab is there because of her, but she is not here. I used to be so afraid of getting pregnant because I was afraid of gaining weight and losing my shape. But once I did I realized that it would all be worth it once that little tyke got here. Now I look at myself and want to scream because I have nothing to show for it. The same goes for the lovely 8 inch scar across my lower stomach.
Adam said he wanted to get a tattoo in honor of her. That might be a good idea. I can't think of anything good though. If I can't think of the perfect thing to get, I won't get it done at all. One tattoo is enough.
Anyway, that's what's going on here. Life is fun. I feel like I'm finally back in the saddle at work. I'm so grateful to be working. The economy is having growing pains right now, and it's unlike anything I've ever seen. Thank goodness we still have a very long time before we retire. We'll need it to recoup our lost savings!
I'm amazed at how many women have had a similar experience. One thing that irks me though is when people say, "Oh, yeah. I know so and so who was so many months pregnant and then had a miscarriage. She went through the same thing." No, that's not the same thing. That is unfortunate, yes, but it's not the same thing. My daughter lived. She lived for three weeks, and then she died. We formed a bond with her (our bond had started months ago, however) and were looking forward to bringing her home.
She said hello to me yesterday. I met with a client, and he had on socks with giraffes on them. Of all the things! They weren't gaudy socks. They were discreet and tasteful, but I did see them peeking out from his shoes. I smiled brightly. My baby said hi to me.
Part of me wants to get pregnant right away. I want to start another life to nurture because I'm so ready to. But I stop myself because we want to pay off things for the next couple of years, and part of me wants to enjoy our freedom for a while. We're going to take quite a few trips this year. I can't wait. We're going to Key West in three weeks! Whoopee!
One thing that is so different for me is myself. I'm heavier, of course, as I still have about 10 pounds to lose before I'm back to pre-baby shape. When I look at myself in the mirror and see my extra flab I get sad because I think of her. That flab is there because of her, but she is not here. I used to be so afraid of getting pregnant because I was afraid of gaining weight and losing my shape. But once I did I realized that it would all be worth it once that little tyke got here. Now I look at myself and want to scream because I have nothing to show for it. The same goes for the lovely 8 inch scar across my lower stomach.
Adam said he wanted to get a tattoo in honor of her. That might be a good idea. I can't think of anything good though. If I can't think of the perfect thing to get, I won't get it done at all. One tattoo is enough.
Anyway, that's what's going on here. Life is fun. I feel like I'm finally back in the saddle at work. I'm so grateful to be working. The economy is having growing pains right now, and it's unlike anything I've ever seen. Thank goodness we still have a very long time before we retire. We'll need it to recoup our lost savings!
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