Journal Entry: 9

It’s 4:24 PM, September 30th. Grief is cruel. As soon as you think you have a grip on things, something happens to flip your emotions upside down.

This morning I thought I had everything under control. I didn’t even cry.

But then I got in the shower and looked at my shrinking stomach and cried. And then that thought led to so many others.

My sweet Lyla pointed out my belly and noted that mommy has a big belly- this has been a topic of conversation in our home for several months now.

Mommy’s growing belly with her baby brother.

Lyla would pat my belly in her sweet attempt to show that she would be gentle with him.

My sweet girl has seen her mommy so sad this past week.

This breaks my heart.

It breaks my heart that she has seen me so upset and that it affects her.

In her sweet voice she’ll ask me and her daddy if mommy is sad.

In my attempt to reassure her, I’ll tell her that I am sad but I then give her a kiss and tell her how much she makes me happy.

There is no way I could get through this without her.

Steven keeps reminding me that she needs her mommy.

And that is my motivation every single day.

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Journal Entry: 7

It’s 6:11 AM, September 29th. Yesterday was an awful day. As soon as I woke up I knew it would be an awful day.

Every hour I thought back to what I was doing during that same hour just one week ago.

It’s torture.

Losing a child is literally living in hell.

It’s dark, lonely, sad, confusing, and a torture that cannot be described.

Yesterday we got a call from my Doctor letting us know that the pathology report came back on my placenta.

It confirmed what she suspected in the hospital.

My placenta separated from my uterus causing an abruption.

I had absolutely zero symptoms.

No bleeding.

No abdominal pain.

Nothing.

But my baby, Scotty, suffered the ultimate loss.

A loss of oxygen.

My body failed me.

Yesterday I yelled out something I haven’t yet, “Why did God do this?”

How could He take such a perfect life? In a way that my Doctor describes as a freak accident?

I’m healthy.

Scotty was healthy.

To top off the day we also had to discuss his death certificate with our Doctor.

The funeral home had been in contact with Steven to let him know that they haven’t received the paperwork from our Doctor to confirm the death and proceed with the cremation.

Yup. Pure torture.

It turns out that our Doctor wasn’t even setup to be able to sign for this sort of thing.

For her year and a half with our practice, she hasn’t needed to sign for death.

She’s used to bringing life into this world.

That’s how little this happens.

Until now.

My heart is absolutely broken.

Shattered.

What I would do to have my baby boy.

Thank goodness for Steven and his strength right now- his strength to hold me up.

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Journal Entry: 5

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.

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