She was expecting the rest of their lives

It's one of those nights where things are just front and center in my mind. It is a night where my heart hurts a little more than it usually does and I can't seem to do anything about it. The tears won't come. My husband isn't home to talk to. So I turn here.

I found a picture on Pinterest tonight. It sums up so much that I feel but never had the words for.

 

Funny thing is, I have seen this before and it didn't really affect me as much as it did tonight. Not sure why.

When I get pregnant... that's just it. I am NOT jsut expecting a cute, cuddly baby. I am expecting the rest of my life to have this child by my side. To raise them, to send them off to school... for them to give me grandbabies of their own one day. It isn't just the pregnancy or just the baby.

So when that baby's heartbeat disappears from that screen... it changes me forever. When I go in to the doctor, shaking... sick to my stomach... praying the whole way back... and that heartbeat that I saw just a weak earlier is still... it changes me. No matter how many times it happens. Everytime I say I won't start to get my hopes up... but that little heartbeat draws me in. That baby wiggling around inside of me... it's my child. It's the product of love between my husband and I. We both love that little peanut from the moment we see him or her. We start to picture the nursey, the labor, the delivery. To have that ripped from you in an instant... is the worst feeling.

Once was bad. Twice? Was horrible. 6 times? Six horrible times? It is a hell I am surrounded in every day.

Having the doctor measure the baby and counting back how many days ago the heart stopped. Wondering what I was doing in that instant and not knowing. I could have been laughing. I could have been sleeping. I could have been doing anything. I for sure didn't know my baby was dying inside of me. I hate that. I hate not knowing if my child is alive or dead inside of me. I hate walking around and just not knowing.

My thoughts are all over the place tonight, forgive me for that. I wish there was a day I could mentally take a break from this. But there isn't. I think about it EVERY SINGLE DAY. There is no mental break. I never feel okay.

I just want this nightmare to be over. I feel like that is what this is sometime. A dream. A nightmare. Like maybe I fell into a coma and I don't know I did. That I am going to wake up from a long, long sleep and find out this was all just a dream and Eric and I will go on to have a beautiful child or two. Because we can.

But in all reality, I know this is real. I know it isn't a real nightmare, I have only made it that in my head.