I am afraid.
Afraid to get pregnant again and afraid for every pregnant woman I see. When I look at pregnancy now, all I see is a ticking time bomb.
Mothers walking around, their faces glow and beam. And I think to myself, you have no idea.
One of the most beautiful and precious gifts of life is tainted. My body failed me, and there is no reason why. My son is buried and my arms are empty.
I feel everything hitting me so much harder now. I've heard that it gets better, but I'm still waiting and waiting.
Sadie plays alone. Sawyer's crib is hidden behind the stairs with a white sheet draped over the top. It shouldn't be like this!
I've been focusing a lot of my anger into organizing a walk for mothers to honor and remember their babies that have been taken too soon. I can't just sit here, idly waiting for life to get better. And I'm trying so hard to just try.
And again, life goes on - and I'm still trying to adjust to the "different."