So it came and went and . . . I’m OK. I knew I would be, but the date just sort of lingered out there, dangling in front of my face, and I had no desire to grab it. The day I was supposed to bring our third baby home, and we’d start our lives as a family of five.
My due date would have been February 18th. I couldn’t help but think about how our day would’ve been much different than it turned out to be, had I been able to have a healthy pregnancy.
On that day, what made me feel great was to go through our kitchen cabinets and get the things that we wouldn’t use anymore into the hands of people who CAN use them.
- The Baby Bullet; used for two boys’ delicious purees of carrots and green beans and pears. (Definitely NOT zucchini. Neither one liked zucchini.)
- An entire box of breast milk storage bags, remembering the days of just trying to stay on top of the pumping and my supply and praying my body would do what my babies needed it to do.
- The odds and ends of toddler cups; if you can actually get the dang tops screwed on correctly, they still spill or leak.
All of these are amazing memories of this blessed journey I’ve been able to take being a mom.
There will always be sadness that we lost our sweet baby and our boys didn’t get to welcome home their brother or sister. I think the happiness and the sadness can exist together, though. I will honor what could have been while being thankful for what I’ve got. And if you’ve ever been through any kind of pregnancy loss, I hope that someday, you can do the same.