Today my heart is aching for the belly I once had.
Last night I was looking through the blog posts I wrote in June and came across a picture of my belly at 18.5 weeks. I just stared and stared at it. I got Ted to look and said that I couldn’t believe I was so big. How could the baby growing in there at that time (still alive) now be gone? If you asked me when I was the happiest, in my life, it was when my belly was that big. I could feel Jacob kicking, I was visibly pregnant and I was/am married to the man of my dreams. I had/have a wonderful family, wonderful parents, wonderful sisters, a wonderful nephew. I had so much to look forward to, and I was enjoying and cherishing every single day at the same time. We were worried about the ultrasound results and Jacob’s left leg, but I figured that at the worst, he would need an operation to correct his foot. The happiness was all-consuming. I can’t imagine ever being that happy again, no matter how many more times I’m pregnant, no matter how many living babies I get to carry in my arms. One will always be missing.
Now I am left aching with empty arms, a broken heart and a flat (ish) belly.