So I can't in good
conscience continue this blog until I address a huge part of my life that I have lost. My precious second daughter, Laurel Kate, was stillborn at 24 weeks on May 24, 2008. She was 1 pound 7 ounces and 12 inches long. I miss her so much. I wish I could hold her again. I couldn't imagine that this could happen to me, to us. I couldn't imagine that I would have the
strength to endure this. Thank God for my husband, he is such an
excellent man. If my life flashed before my eyes, the two images that I know would flash would be of him holding Natalie for the first time and Laurel for the first time.
Even though Laurel was only 24 weeks old she looked so much like her older sister. She was just perfect. Her perfect little feet were the size of my thumbprint. I will forever cherish the time we had together and I have faith that we will be reunited with her one day.
I was so excited that I was going to have another baby girl to love and that Natalie would have a sister to grow up with. Natalie was so aware of what was going on with me, Laurel taught Natalie about how she grew in mommy's tummy too. I am so
grateful to her for that.
We are managing day to day and it is getting easier to have happy feelings about her than just sad all the time. I am looking forward to a second chance. What I learned most from this whole life experience is that I want another baby. I haven't been the type that says how much she loves being pregnant. I am usually somewhere on the opposite side of the spectrum. Hating how my face is broken out and my boobs have their own gravitational pull. I was excited that I would be done having babies by 30. Now all of that is out of the window, I can actually say that I am looking forward to being pregnant again! Maybe that is what I am supposed to learn from this whole experience. I love being a mom, maybe I can learn to love being pregnant if God blesses me with another chance.
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Go ahead and mention my child.
The one that died you know.
Don’t worry about hurting me further.
The depth of my pain doesn’t show.
Don’t worry about making me cry.
I’m already crying inside.
Help me to heal by releasing,
The tears that I try to hide.
I’m hurt when you just keep silent,
Pretending she didn’t exist.
I’d rather you mention my child,
Knowing that she will be missed.
You asked me how I was doing.
I say “pretty good” or “fine”.
But healing is something ongoing.
I feel it will take a life time.
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