It's been three years.
It seems August 13th will always be a hard day for me. It wasn't meant to be a day of any significance. Just another day pregnant, three years ago. But now, it holds so many painful memories and so much love and hope lost.
I'm beginning to realize and accept that I'm not strange for taking this so hard. Maybe I'm just more up front with the difficulties, but I hear more and more of the pain people go through with infant loss. A family member revealed his wife wont even try again after a traumatic early miscarriage. A respected colleague of mine, with two kids revealed he and his wife went through something similar and his wife cannot talk about it to this day--so they've never ever talked about it. He also told me he has a family member who is well in to her 40s and still cries very often over the baby she lost in her 20s. I hate to know anyone hurts as much as I have, but somehow it is comforting to know that others know this loss. And that maybe I'm handling it in a somewhat healthy matter.
This year felt harder than last. Not sure why, exactly. Daddy took it harder too. He even put a post on facebook, which he rarely does. As much as it hurt, it was very brave of him to share the pain of your birthday. Somehow seeing 8/13 brought a lot of emotions to the surface, and even now two weeks later, the tears are welling again.
So many friends have 3 year old starting preschool. And it's hard to not think that would have been you. Three is a tough age and so many of my mom friends are complaining about their defiant, tantrum throwing toddlers. If only they knew I would give anything (anything!) to go round and round with my growing girl.
I can't believe it still hurts so much. Unfortunately I know of several friends who have very recently lost, one even at your exact gestation. I wish I could reassure them somehow, but the thought of saying..."it hurts forever" just doesn't seem comforting. I know it's silly to think there's anything I can say to comfort them. I was told so many things after losing you and so many of those things hurt.
But the sight, sound, touch, and love of your baby sister is what stops the tears and what makes me thankful. She is an amazing gift and without your loss, we would not have her. We wouldn't have known how to save her. Bremy your life was not in vain. My 23 weeks with you were truly so happy and full of wonderful memories.
I love you, my forever baby girl.