One Month

     Today marks one month since we had to say goodbye to our daughter. How is that even possible?! We should be counting down the last two weeks of pregnancy, not this. This last month has been the worst month of my life. Trying to accept this new reality that I am living is challenging. I should still have a nice big round belly. I should be finishing up her nursery. Joel should be reading her a bed time story at night.

I should be waking up to her wonderful kicks every morning. We should be playing her favorite song (by Led Zeppelin) while she would have a dance party in my belly. We should be wrapping her Christmas presents. I couldn't wait to build a relationship with her like the one I share with my mom. I couldn't wait to give our parents their first grandchild. I couldn't wait to give my grandma Lashley her 4th great grand baby, my grandma yahraus her first, and Joel's grandparents their first. I couldn't wait to take extended family pictures with 4 generation. My life is forever in a state of "we should be" instead of "we are." All the little things that most people take for granted, I won't ever get those moments. I don't get to deal with a crying child in the middle of the mall. I don't get to argue over what clothes she's going out in. I don't get to take her wedding dress shopping. I don't get to experience any of it. My life is so incomplete without her. Even while I was still carrying her, our house felt so much fuller, and warmer. Now it feels so empty. So cold. So quiet. Going anywhere and coming home to this house is awful.

     Yesterday we packed up the downstairs play room that we had put together. Man did that suck. We had already purchased her Christmas presents. One of my favorite things we bought her was a book called "On the Night You Were Born." I planned on reading that to her every year on her birthday. And I think I still will. But seeing how empty our house is without baby toys everywhere is sad. I remember thinking we didn't have enough room in our house for two dogs, a baby, and all the stuff that babies come with. But we moved and shuffled everything around. And it was all falling into place. Now, it's so empty. I still have yet to go into her nursery. The door stays closed. I looked at the last few pictures I had taken of the room the other day

 and I miss it. I was enjoying decorating that room so much and making it the most perfect space for our perfect little lady. I want to go in there, but I'm scared. Scared of what, I don't know. But the thought of going in there is terrifying.

     Packing up maternity clothes was pretty horrible as well. I loved watching my belly grow, knowing my girl was growing big and strong. I loved shopping for new clothes and getting the perfect outfit together for our maternity photo session. I loved how comfy all the clothes were. One of the last photos I have of Ellie before she was born is one of me trying on a shirt at Burlington for our photos.

I had been looking for weeks for the right red plaid shirt to go with Joel's black sweater. I was hoping there would be snow on the ground for the photos, even though I HATE winter. Getting dressed in the morning or looking in the mirror hurts my heart so much. This new body I am in, one that doesn't carry my child, is confusing. Maybe because my body took 8.5 months to grow, and in the matter of two hours it was small again, it's hard to grasp that my belly isn't a beach ball still? The only physical evidence I have of carrying Eloise is the scar from my c-section. I didn't get stretch marks, which most women would love, but not me. I want those physical reminds of how amazing the human body is, to be able to create and carry life. Maybe as my body continues to heal and the swelling goes down even more, some will appear. I hope.