September 3rd. The due date that I’ll always remember. I spent almost 9 weeks thinking that I’d have a baby on this day. I was so naive with that first pregnancy. I really didn’t understand that things could go wrong. Sure, I had heard of miscarriages. But I never really thought it was something that would happen to me. I was relatively young. In great shape. Healthy as a horse. Happily in love and ready to start a family. I had no reason to think that my pregnancy would end in anything other than a beautiful baby boy or girl.
We were so wrong. And so devastated when we received the news. It has been 2.5 years since that fateful Valentine’s Day and that painful memory still lingers.
But in some ways, the blow has been lessened by our precious Bella. Without that loss, we wouldn’t have her.
This is still a date that is likely forever etched in my head. Now, after three losses, I’m not sure that we’re any closer to understanding why things have to be this way. But I’m doing my best to stay positive and keep my chin up. One of these days, our family will be complete. Either with another child or with acceptance of Bella as an only child.