Today is 3 months since your stillbirthday. I still miss you and think about you every day. It seems impossible that a quarter of a year has gone by without you. A month from today you will have been gone as long as you were alive. It seems crazy. Impossible.
I get flashes. Thinking about what life would have been like if you had been healthy. You wouldn’t be 3 months old, even though it is three months from your birthday. We would have been 32w4d. One week before when my pregnancy with Owen ended. Over 7 weeks until your due date. We would have eveything set, maternity pictures taken, hospital bag packed. We would have done all the planning and preparing that we never really got a chance to start. We would be ready for you to come any day, yet holding out breath hoping you would stay in for 2 more months. We would have been prepared this time. But we were never prepared for this.
I was terrified of a miscarriage until 15 weeks. I was terrified of you being born at 33 weeks. I wasn’t prepared for a fatal diagnosis. I wasn’t prepared to lose you at 20 weeks. That was supposed to be the safe time. 15-30 weeks. That was supposed to be the time that I didn’t have to be afraid. In the future, I will never not be afraid.
There are four other families due within two weeks of your due date. They are all having healthy pregnancies, and I keep wondering why them. Why them and not me. They say 1 in 4 pregnancies end in loss. I don’t know if there are early losses I don’t know about, but we were the 1 in 5. Statistics ring true. Of those 4, there are 2 girls, 2 boys. I have an easier time with the girls. I compare them less to you. The boy families I try to ignore. Pretend they don’t exist. I don’t know what I will do when those bumps I look away from are outside, very much alive and impossible to ignore.
I wish I knew what to say to you. But I feel like it has all been said. I’m a broken record. I love you. I miss you. Why aren’t you here. At the same time there is so much I never got to say. The world seems cruel, taking you so soon. We should have had more time. We should have had forever. I am still so angry. So angry that I don’t get your first cry, your first laugh, first word. So angry that I don’t get a life with you. Nothing is fair.
I don’t know how to end this. There is nothing uplifting I can say. I miss you so much it hurts. And nothing makes that go away.