Yesterday was Elsie's -- our first loss -- due date. Had that pregnancy not ended in miscarriage, we would have a 1-year-old.
It's crazy to think how much time has gone by since Morgan and I have held a baby of our own in our arms. I didn't blog about the due date for our fourth loss, but that also passed in March. I've been trying to focus on the beauty that is my baby bump and the wiggly little love growing inside me, but it's not always easy at times like these.
I hate that seemingly happy times in our lives are still marred by so much pain and loss. I hate how much it still hurts to think about the babies we will never hold. I hate that this pregnancy has been filled with so much anxiety, worry, and distance.
I don't think that April 7 will ever be an easy day for me. I don't know why the first loss has been the hardest for me. Maybe it was that I was pregnant the longest -- carrying for well over a month? That we had an ultrasound? That it was the first? That it broke my pregnancy innocence? That it required a D&C? Whatever the reason, April 7 has come to embody our entire journey with pregnancy loss.
I hope that Nora's eventual birth and life are healing. She is a true gift from God and the miracle that we never thought we would get. I wish that was enough for me right now. Maybe I'm terrible for it not being enough. Someday it will be, I hope.