Months later

Have you ever had that feeling that you’re missing something? You check your wallet for your credit card, there. You check your bag for your keys, there. You check your pocket for your phone, that’s there too. After you’ve checked thoroughly that “missing something” feeling goes away.

But what happens when you feel like you’re missing someone? A baby to be specific. There’s no where to look and no one to look at but yourself. You go weeks, and months, without pain. Life goes on as normal, and your hormones, they even out too. But when that pain does return, it comes back with a vengeance.

When it comes to the baby, the baby I lost, I have triggers. It isn’t the usual ones; pregnant friends, baby clothes etc. It is the most random ones. I can hold, love, and hug on a newborn and not feel anything, no anger for what I’ve lost, no jealousy. It’s not in me. But one day, one random, beautiful, sunny day, I’ll walk down a quiet street, pushing River Mae and the “missing something” feeling will hit like a ton of bricks. I don’t look for my keys, my phone, or my wallet, I know what it is. I pinpoint it, but my body still says you’re missing something. I push forward, continue walking down our sidewalk, listening to River babble on about water balloons and parks. The lump in my throat only grows. I want to cry, but I am far to embarrassed to, far to thankful to. But there it goes. The tears start to form.

I’m not sure how to articulate the pain. I am not sad, I’ve come to terms that God has a plan for us all. I am happy in the space I am in. Working, going back to school, sending River to school, losing weight, all things that  just feel right for me… for us. But even months after my baby has passed, my body is still quite confused. Not aligning with my mind, the mind that is well organized, the mind that knows a baby will come one day… when I am ready to go for it. Almost five months of pregnancy just doesn’t disappear. My body, it still wants to prepare, it wants to grow, it wants to nurture. It feels as if it’s missing something-someone.

Just missing someone. I am  learning that no amount of therapy, babies, or happy days can take that away.  Maybe it’s time that I need. Maybe, this will go on forever. There will always be the one that I lost, the one that I miss, but my body misses so much more.

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