Five years ago yesterday was supposed to be a joyous day. We were going to get to see our baby. And we did get to see our precious, long waited for peanut. And then I saw the doctor's face and heard the words, "This looks like a miscarriage," Heartbreaking, gut-wrenching, awful words. It has been five years. The hurt has diminished, but I don't think it will ever go away. Ever.
On Christmas Eve, the kids and I went to visit my grandmothers. I sat with my Nanna (who has Alzheimer's) and I got teary eyed thinking about the past. We always went up the road to their house to help decorate the tree. She wouldn't do it without us. She had these plastic wise men that were each a different color. My sisters and I each had our favorite color and would compete over which one got to be where in the line-up. I hate that she can't remember those things with me. And yesterday (of all days, right?) I learned that there is a possibility that her time with us is incredibly short. I HATE that even more.
I will never forget my sad January 3rd when I learned the terrible fate of my baby. And I will never forget all the wonderful things about my Nanna. Because somethings you just never forget.
1 comment:
Erin I am so sorry to hear about both things. I didn't know. Praying for your during this tough time.
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