So as of last week, I have gone an entire year without getting pregnant and having a loss.
I reached a goal. Leading up to our date I felt good. I felt like I have come so far in a year. I feel like the break from pregnancy and the (sorta) break from grief has been immensely helpful.
And yet, on the anniversary of our loss I was in a total funk. All day.
The funk hasn’t quite left.
What if that is my very last pregnancy? Do I want end my fertility (or lack thereof) on that one bitter note? A pregnancy that seemed doomed from the start? One that lasted a measly 5 weeks of low hcg and low hope?
My period raged the week of our anniversary. It was a physical reminder I could have done without.
I also had a different sort of loss last week.
Leyla killed my phone with water.
I had 1,000 photos and videos on that phone that are lost forever. Most of my time with Z is on that phone.
And this week (as communication with mom has picked up), the reality that our time with Z is so limited really hit hard.
He is not my son, but for all intents and purposes, he is. He comes to me with open arms and a huge grin on his face. He calls me mama. I can soothe him just by picking him up, when Ryan can’t get him to calm down. We’re really bonded that little one and I.
The loss of almost all our pictures has me a little heartbroken. I was counting on those photos to remember him through the years. Remember his cute babbling, and how he crawled, and how he walks arms outstretched and palms up. The photos of cuddles, and sister time, and goofy grins. I can’t seem to stop tearing up about it.
I already miss him.
I didn’t mean for this its to sound like such a downer. Truly, for the most part things are going well. I think hormones and broken phones and anniversaries just got to me a bit.
And one little word of advice if I can … Go back up your pictures now. I promise, it is worth the little bit of time and effort