I get up every morning, so excited to go into Cameron's room, pick her up, and feel her nuzzle her head into the space between my neck and my shoulder. My heart is so full when she pats my back and says, "Mama." I cannot stop smiling when she runs over to me, giggling, arms spread open for me to scoop her up and drink in her joy.
But yesterday, I felt so empty. I pulled up to my doctor's office for my
post-D&C checkup, and I couldn't get out of the car. My breaths came in
fast-paced spurts, my heart raced, and then I saw a pregnant, beaming couple
walk out of the office. A knot filled up my throat and a tear rolled down my
It's been five weeks.
And it still hurts.
It hurts to look down and see my stomach, which should have a hint of a bump
by now. It hurts to imagine counting down the days 'til Cameron would be a big
sister. It hurts to think that I SHOULD be in my second trimester, missing deli
meat and red wine and long runs.
It still hurts.
My heart is so full of love for the life I have with my husband and precious
CK, and so empty with the could-have-should-have-beens.
I have many good days, many days filled with smiles and laughter, only mildly
interrupted with the ache of my heart. But I still have bad days. Days like
today, when I feel so scared. And so sad, and worried. And so empty.
Because it still hurts.