It’s 5:19 AM, September 27th. Before I typed this date, I had to go back and look at the calendar. My heart hurts to know that time is moving on.

I want it to just stop.

I don’t want it to move on. I don’t want the movements I felt of my baby boy inside me to get dulled.

I know I’ve said this before, but the mornings are the worst. Waking up and instantly being reminded of the pain of losing him.

I found a baby picture of Lyla from our newborn shoot where Steven and I are holding her, and there is no question that they were siblings.

The similarities between them blew me away. She would have been the best big sister.

The other day I was looking for a long sleeve shirt for her to wear and pulled out a new one.I instantly told her this one would be perfect and after I unfolded it and read the text, my heart dropped.

The shirt read “Super Sister”. I folded it up and put it back in her drawer burying it under her other shirts.

My family, when I found out I was pregnant with Scotty, was complete. Steven and I were going to be done having our own children after this second pregnancy.

And when we found out we were pregnant with a boy? Complete joy. One of each! I would have a baby boy and Steven had a son.

We both had so many dreams of our family and what our future looked like.

Just for them to be crushed.

Everything was just too perfect.

Life was too sweet.

Grief is hard. You don’t want to move on. I almost want to stay sad forever. But my sadness moves to anger and then back to sadness.

I want to find a light in this situation.

Maybe one day we will, but for now it’s just complete darkness.