I should be growing a baby right now. But I'm not. At least five times a week, if not daily, I'm reminded that if everything had gone according to (my) plan, my womb would contain a tiny combo of Ryan and myself. Seeing the other three mini mes running around this house at leasts gives me an idea of what would have been, what was to come. However, this womb is empty, and unfortunately so is a little place in my heart. I am blessed to have the time I did with my child who I have yet to meet and I don't take that for granted. Like all of us, that little one's days were numbered, and whether I agree with the amount or not, those days have come and gone. I can accept that. The only problem left is the constant reminders that I won't get to hold this baby, raise this baby, kiss and hug this baby in this life. And while I am always happy for those around me, so happy, I find myself brought down repeatedly by the thought that that should be me. I fight jealousy and tears, and (God help me, please) I have ugly thoughts about pregnancies of others. I don't know what's worse; mourning my child or fighting my thoughts. I guess its a process, and while I don't wish the loss of a child on anyone for the simple fact that loss hurts, I would go beyond that and say I wouldn't wish the thoughts of a grieving mother on any woman.

Pray for me.

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