November is a bad month for me, because it’s the month I lost my first, desperately wanted pregnancy.
November is also a beautiful month for me, filled with gratitude for the honor of watching my daughter grow.
I wrote THIS last year about the miscarriage, and it still rings true for me. Memories are still triggered that bring back the drowning feeling of despair. There’s a bit of cognitive dissonance as I bathe my daughter in the tub that two years ago I floated in, feeling the waves of pain envelop me. As I rake leaves in our backyard and remember wondering what “it” would look like, even knowing my daughter is napping inside.
I am so, so grateful for my girl. Beyond grateful. Privileged and in awe that she is here.
But having Ellie also brought into sharp focus what I lost, and what could have been