Some days are harder than others...

Like today.

Today is a gloomy, cloudy day and it matches my mood perfectly. I miss my baby. I miss being pregnant. I would have been 16 weeks by now and would possibly know the gender already.

This is hard stuff. It is not easy. It's getting better but I'm learning that I will always be heartbroken over this. The pain never really goes away. It just sits inside my chest like a dull ache. On these days, I tend to have a shorter temper, I mope around more, tend toward pessimism, and can't seem to get anything done. I'm hoping going to work out this morning will get me out of that slump. We'll see. {that's the pessimism coming out}

The worst part is that there is no ritual for this. No funeral, no wake, no nothing. Because there wasn't anything to bury. Those who have gone through this know how that feels. There's no prescribed way to mourn and acknowledge a loss like this. Hubs and I are working on something; maybe releasing balloons, or one of those lanterns that you light and it flies away. Not sure yet. But it feels like we need to do something. Our baby should be honored because it was important to us and so, so, so loved. We wanted our sweet one so badly.

This is going to be a rough day.

{and that's ok}