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The Small Things

They say that with time the pain gets easier in the loss of a child, but in my case I feel it is only making it worse. It may have only been twelve weeks with her but it was a lifetime of hopes and dreams. It’s the small things in my day that make the pain the worst. It’s the calendar that has my weeks of pregnancy written down on it—sixteen weeks on Wednesday—and the doctor appointments that will never be. The Big Sister tee-shirts that just happen to be in my daughter Emma’s size.

What really hurts are people asking how I am feeling and how my morning sickness is—I just smile and say I feel fine. Not having the heart to really tell them that she is gone, that I would rather have the horrid morning sickness and have her back with me then to forever be heartbroken with out her. The front desk receptionist at the doctor’s office that asks if I am here to see the doctor for an OB visit? All I can think is, OB’s deal with pregnant women and deliver babies and mine is dead! I have no idea! Or when she asks why I need to make the appointment with my doctor? All I can think is, I need answers as to why my third baby is in heaven and why on earth is she not here with me?! It’s the small things in my day like that, that make it unbearable. I know I have a wonderful baby girl here on earth and why do I have any reason to mope around heartbroken about a baby I never knew or had, but for some reason my heart just does. So I sit here just thinking I got one month down without her, now just a lifetime to go! Wish it was as easy as it sounds! I know in my heart she was Emma’s little sister, another daddy’s girl, and mommy’s world!

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