Always waiting...

... For the other shoe to drop. This baby might be the only one we get, if we're actually lucky enough to get it here alive. The anxiety that comes along with this pregnancy thing, after having your perfectly healthy baby die for no reason, is almost too much for me. Too much for your daddy. Just too damn much. Things can be going along just fine. No pain, no problems, no issues. Then it's time for another routine doctors appointment and the anxiety slowly starts setting in.

First, it's excitement that we get to go back to the doctor, check on the baby, see it, and make sure all is well. Then the night before the appointment, there isn't much sleep. Then the morning of, you can't get to the doctors office early enough, fast enough. And then the worst part, the waiting room. Hurry up and wait. Let the anxiety build. Then you're expecting an ultrasound and almost fly through the roof when they tell you they don't think you have one scheduled today. I'm sorry, what?! I'm not leaving here without SEEING my baby and it's heart beating. So, into the ultrasound room you go, and we thought the waiting room was bad...the ultrasound room is like a torture chamber. This is the dark, quiet room, where you are sure your world is going to come crashing down... again. But thankfully, you see baby, you see baby's heart beating away. And almost all is right with the world once again. Almost. Until the next thing to worry about pops up or just the next routine doctors appointment.

I wish with all my heart, that I could be a normal pregnant person. I wish we could be normal, excited parents-to-be. I wish our first baby girl wasn't dead. I wish we weren't always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I could spend the rest of my life wishing we were normal, but that simply cannot be. Our lives are not normal. Normal parents aren't always missing their first born baby. We will miss her until the day we die. Normal parents don't fear being pregnant and getting to bring life into this world. We will forever fear pregnancy, this one and any other one we are blessed with, until the end of time.

Although we're exhausted from the anxiety, and ever present grief, it was a great doctors appointment and baby is doing wonderful. In even better news, they let us schedule our c-section for 37 weeks exactly. Hey, the earlier we can safely get this rainbow baby in our arms, the better! Making Monday, November 24th the official birthdate. I don't have to say "is it December yet?!" But instead, is it November yet?! Baby can share a birthday month with big sister. You don't mind do you, baby Stella? 

And best of all, I lost another Monday. Only 16 left now!

18 more Mondays

As of today, I'm officially halfway through this pregnancy. Our rainbow baby has been baking for 19 weeks, and since I'll deliver at 38 weeks at the very latest, we literally only have 19 weeks left.... At the very most. It's hard to believe we're half way through, but it's even harder to believe I still have 19 long weeks left. How am I ever going to make it that much longer?! Because even though we are halfway through, we didn't even know we were pregnant those first 4 weeks, so we've only known I was pregnant for 15 weeks, meaning I literally have more time left in this pregnancy than we've gone through thus far!! That's so much time. So instead of thinking of it like that, I'm going to try to get my crazy, anxious mind to think a little differently. Since I'm apparently into counting weeks, to say I only have 18 Mondays left, at the most, sounds more like something I can handle. Only 18 more Mondays until it's Monday, December 1st. That glorious Monday, that we are so anxiously awaiting. Can we make it 18 more Mondays? As if we have a choice. Baby has been moving a lot lately and we've been able to feel her daily since about 17 weeks, even daddy. It's the best feeling in the world, feeling the life growing inside of you. And very reassuring too. We get to say, "well, we know baby's still alive, at least right now." Keep it up baby.

You've been making yourself present a lot lately, baby Stella, and we much appreciate it. The other day when I tried to wear a different necklace besides yours to work, you certainly let me know how you felt about that. It took about all I had to even put on another necklace and it almost made me sick. Everything just felt off. Shortly after I put the other necklace on, I almost fell down putting my wedges on, almost put the garage door down on my car while driving out of the garage, and ran a red light on my way to work. Thankfully, I was rattled enough before leaving the house, I had gone back inside and grabbed your necklace, which I immediately put back on when I barely arrived safely at work. Yes, I'm aware it's just a necklace, but it somehow makes me feel closer to you and like I'm always carrying a part of you with me. After telling your daddy about my morning, he said, "all of this happened while you were not wearing Stella's necklace? Then, put the necklace back on!!" Love him. We've seen the date November 6th a few times on a few different things. I see 9:41 and 11:06 on the clock every single day. At least one of them, at least once a day, if not both times, both day and night.

Gosh, we love you baby girl. It's such an amazing feeling of peace to know you're near, watching over us and your baby sibling. Baby Stella, help us survive 18 more Mondays, until we meet our rainbow.

8 months

8 months ago today, a wall of darkness fell on our family, like nothing we've ever experienced. The aching grief that followed in the days and weeks that passed, was relentless on everyone. How we are all still standing is amazing to me. It's amazing to me to have watched our family come together in the most heart wrenching and challenging times. To love one another, to appreciate one another, and to be thankful for all that we still have. 5 months after losing you, baby girl, the darkest of clouds finally started to lift. The day we learned we were pregnant with your baby sibling. The day an ounce of hope returned to our lives. A ray of light finally broke through the darkness. Thank you for blessing us with this truly special gift, getting to carry and grow your baby sibling. With a great deal of faith and a lot of hope in our hearts, we so anxiously await their arrival. 

It's hard to believe you have been gone almost as long as you were here alive with us. How could that be? These milestones of what "should be" don't get any easier. The pain is still very present each and everyday, but it's especially raw on the 6th of each month. I know you would be a beautiful 8 month old baby. Probably laughing, trying to talk, and crawl. My heart cannot explain how much we miss you and how much we miss all the things we should be teaching you and watching you do. As you know, we pray every night that we get to have all the experiences with your sibling that we were cheated out of having with you.

I can say that losing you, baby Stella, has given us a much greater appreciation of this life than we ever could have imagined. Our family has never been closer. Our relationships with one another have never been stronger. Our love has never been so unconditional. It's weird and bittersweet, but your daddy and I are better together, than we could have ever been without losing you. We will be better, more patient, more understanding, more appreciative parents someday (God willing), thanks to you. Life is precious, life is fragile, and life is not to be taken for granted. You have taught us that, and for that, we are very thankful.

We love you, Stella St. Clair. More and more every single day. Though you cannot be here on earth with us, you are still with us. And you play such an important role in our lives. Thank you.