What a difference a year makes

I've been meaning to post this since the first of December, but I've had a hard time getting it out.

What a difference a year makes. Last year, on December 1st, I wrote this post (and please don't feel like you need to read all of it if you haven't already. It's dark and depressing.) I had already "lost" the baby, but still, up until that moment there was the SMALLEST bit of hope trapped inside me. Th e SMALLEST inkling that the doctors were wrong, even as I continued to bleed. But that night, when it was over, I knew there was NO more hope. It was done, it was finished. That was by far the hardest night of my life.

Then, on Tuesday, as I had the fussiest baby in the world, I didn't stop to think about what the day was, or the significance of what the day was. I was up from about 4 am on with Keevia, as she had a bad belly ache. She fussed and fussed, and just wanted to constantly nurse.... but she'd continue to cry while nursing. Mom got some gripe water and pro-biotics down her... and FINALLY she pooped, and then was much happier. She went to sleep and pretty much passed out for the next 4ish hours. We were able to get to Richmond, and almost all the way through "The Blind Side" before she woke up to eat.

We made it through the entire movie, and were sitting at Steak N'Shake... when I mentioned to my hubby that it was our friend Liz's dad's birthday. He immediately went to text him, while I thought about what day of the month it was.

And then it hit me, what day it was. And there, in the middle of Steak and Shake, I started crying. I looked down at my beautiful daughters face, and I couldn't help it. As much as I love my daughter, my heart still yearns to hold that baby as well.. to meet him or her, and to love on them as I love on Keevia. I know that's not possible, and I know that had I kept that pregnancy, I wouldn't have Keevia, which right now seems unfathomable... but at that moment, I felt both extrodinarily thankful and completely saddened at the same time.

I've pretty much blocked all the pain of child-birth, and think "Oh yeah, I could so do that again!" but I have not, nor do I think I ever will, blocked the pain of that miscarriage. And it wasn't the physical pain (although it did hurt, lemme tell you). It was the emotional pain... the heart break. The total and complete loss of plans and hope. And it sucked.

I also wrote this post after the miscarriage, in January. In it, I said this...

Edward Landon will be here eventually, or (fill in the 78 girls names we have chosen(not quite, but close!)) will be here eventually. As upsetting as it is to think of Thanksgiving, when we would have had a 4-5 month old, and Christmas, where there would have been 4 grandchildren... It's ok. I pray we're pregnant by Christmas... a safe, solid, sticking pregnancy.

We didn't have a 4-5 month old, but we did have an almost 1 month old... and for that, I am eternally grateful.

Peanut, I love you, and I miss you... and I'll hold you in heaven.

Love, Momma