10 months. I’ve been anticipating that once we hit October it was going to be rough, and somehow here we are. The seasons changing, the start of the holidays. Just dreading it all. Of course I remember every detail of my pregnancy from the day the test was positive, but something about those last 10 weeks has been sticking out more. I’m not sure if it’s because as time goes by those are the moments and memories that play in my mind every day because they are the closest while also being so far. Time just makes no sense. I should be painting your butt orange like I did for your brothers, or putting you in a sparkly pumpkin. I should be planning what you would be for your first Halloween. A year ago, almost to the day, we did our maternity pictures in Florida. Hurricane Ian happened and the airports closed. Our trip was almost cancelled and we ended up being the first flight in when it reopened. Our photo shoot was supposed to be 10 minutes away from the house but the beach was ruined so we had to drive 2 hours away to a different beach. We almost cancelled and said it wasn’t worth it. We didn’t do maternity pictures with the boys, so was it really a big deal if we didn’t do them this time? Something pushed us to stick with it, and in hindsight I am truly so thankful we did. These are the pictures of your life. All we will ever have. Dancing around in my belly, I remember specifically that week your movement picked up so much. I have video after video in my phone of you tumbling around. They remind me you were real. They remind me of the most beautiful moments and memories of you. You went to Disney and the Dolphins game that week, too! This will never get any easier. It’s not fair that you aren’t home with us. I sound like a broken record, but we are forever broken. I will scream your name into this world for the rest of my life. I will share and love you proudly. I will make sure that everyone knows you existed. I will never shy away and hide my pain of missing you, because I have learned that while others want nothing more than for me to be healed from this or for me to move on,(*spoiler alert - i will never move on from the death of my child) I don’t want that. Yes, I want the hurt to stop, but I equally want to be able to carry it with me always. Because that’s you. My deep grief for you is because of my deep love for you. And that will never ever stop. My broken heart can be filled with love even with the cracks. Pain and joy can both exist. I can be an amazing mother to all three of my children and nothing will ever change that.
My beautiful daughter, my Andelyn. I love you, I miss you, I need you.
