Today is the anniversary of our darkest day.
Today is the day, on October 1, 2010, that we lost our dear baby Hope.
We went to the doctor excited to see our baby on the big fancy ultra sound machine.
14 weeks of bliss. The best 14 weeks of our lives.
We left in tears. Completely broken.
Two words destroyed us: no heartbeat.
Years of trying and praying, 14 weeks of dreams come true, gone.
We were lost. Devastated. Angry.
Why, why, why, why!
Why would our wonderful, amazing, loving God take our precious baby?
How would I remember to breathe?
What was the point of anything if our baby could be taken away from us with two words.
We were robbed of so much more than our baby that day. So much of what I knew to be absolutely true in the world was gone. Nothing would ever be right or pure again. Not like it was before this promise was broken.
I don’t get to think that being pregnant means a baby anymore. Never.
I don’t get to think that everything will be okay ever again.
I don’t get to trust my body.
I don’t get to believe, without doubt, that it all works out in the end.
I don’t get to hold our sweet little baby. Not ever. Not once. Never.
We have healed and grown so much since the darkest times. We have managed to pull me out of the blackest darkness I’ve ever known. My husband saved me so many times. He set his own grief aside to heal mine. Our family and friends stayed by us and loved us, even though we were not even a little bit fun to be around.
We know we are blessed to have us, happy, in love, best friends forever, us. But we will always, forever, and ever miss our what could have been.
We love you baby Hope. Always.