What It Feels Like.

Lately, I've been caught up in my thoughts of Kylie. I seem to just daze off thinking about what could have been, what I should have done, and the things I can't change. Thursday, I had a doctors appointment with my OB/GYN, and it was absolutely horrible going back without Kylie. There was a couple who was talking about how beautiful their 6 week old daughter was, and I just wanted to scream at them about how much more beautiful Kylie was. Which I know is wrong, because they didn't know my situation, and every parent thinks their child is the most adorable baby ever. I couldn't ruin their moment just because my moments of telling about my daughter is a totally different story. Anyways, as I enter the room ( the same room I remember sitting in feeling Kylie kick, listening to her heartbeat, and talking to Daddy about our new life, I never imagined it'd be life I am now living.) I sit at the same old place, and have my blood pressure checked. As the nurse is waiting, she ask " So how's that baby doing." I had already been holding back the tears, and this just crushed me. I just replied, "She passed away at 8 days." The nurse looked at me and said, "Oh, I forgot that was you. Sorry." This stunned me, I forgot that was you, am I just the woman that lost her daughter. Is that all you think of when you think of me. That's not what I want at all. I want to be none as the woman who has such an amazingly beautiful daughter who just so happens to live with the most incredible and wonderful God. A God that I trust completely to keep her safe, and use her in our lives, not as the couple that lost a child, but the couple that believes in something bigger than this world. A couple that through that God will see their daughter again, and it will be better than the first time we ever laid eyes on her. I've gone to my doctor before now, but Thursday was just a little bit harder to get through.

On another note, I've also been thinking about people who have said to me, " I sort of know what you're going through," or "I can't imagine what you're going through." You know why? I'll gladly tell you. You have NO idea what i'm going through, and you can't imagine what I'm going through because it's the absolute worse feeling in the world, and you have been lucky enough to not lose a child. If you'd like to know what my life is now like, I'll be more than happy to share. My life is now filled with passing a clock that says 11:11, and stopping to make a wish. A wish that of hopes of having a child who lives to be at least 80, but sometimes 100. Life for me now means being at work and looking at the toys, clothes, and books I would be picking up after Kylie. If you were me, you'd also be scared to DEATH of getting pregnant, because you fear of loss again. You'd also have to see women, with their children, and know that most of those women will never even know you had a child. Days would be filled with dreams of how you wanted your life to be, meanwhile, yours is actually passing you by.