November 13th is just around the corner, and it marks a milestone. 6 months since we lost Logan. 1/2 a year already.
Time flies when your life is falling apart.
I’ve since gathered up the pieces, but like a 1,000 piece puzzle, it’s been difficult putting those pieces in the right place.
I’ve heard at least our loss happened when it did and not weeks, months, or years later. Like that would somehow make it easier. 35 days pregnant, 35 weeks pregnant, 35 days old, 35 weeks old, 35 months old, or 35 years old; this loss would still hurt. I would still grieve for what could, should, and would have been. Losing a baby in the womb without knowing them on the outside, does not make this any easier. Logan was a baby, a little person. We named him, felt him kick, planned his future. He’s not just a little loss because he wasn’t born alive, he was apart of me.
His death has completely changed my life. I can’t ever get that innocence back. I envy those that still have their innocence and complain about common pregnancy symptoms. I used to be that person, the one who was “so done being pregnant” those last few weeks. I took it all for granted. I would tell our OB at every visit that we were “normal and boring.” What I would give to be normal and boring again.
Before our lives were touched by loss I was an optimist. Now, I’m a realist, or very cautiously optimistic. It’s a tough road to walk just waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m afraid to be 100% happy because who knows what sad event is just waiting around the corner.
I always used to feel sympathy for couples who couldn’t get pregnant when it’s always happened so easily for us. I’m now one of those people who wonder why it’s so easy for everyone else and why it’s so hard for us to have just one more baby. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for, but it seems like the universe is totally against us. Like miracles happen for everyone else except us.
Since the miscarriage, I’ve asked God what he wants from me when I have nothing left to give. It’s hard to stay faithful when your heart is broken. It’s hard to hold onto the promise of hope after the storm, when your rainbow shatters right before your eyes. But I pray that Logan can show us that hope again some day. I know he sent the next baby to us, to bring us some happiness. And in the short 12 weeks we had, I was happy… and nervous, and scared. And I hope Logan knows that. He showed us it is possible to be happy, but love and miss him dearly at the same time.
If Logan’s life was just some blip on the radar, I wouldn’t feel this sad. But his little life, completely changed mine. His loss is a big one. He was everything we wanted to complete our family. Our future, hopes, dreams, and wishes were ripped away in an instant.
Logan was a little life, not a little loss. I hope that the next 6 months will bring healing to my heart, so I can live life for him. ♥