the seasons of baby loss
Celebrating Halloween with a little one has been wonderful, everything it’s supposed to be, and yet this time of year has brought a renewed sadness for the baby who is NOT here to dress up. I keep thinking of this time last year, remembering that by now the horrible first trimester sickness had come to an end, and I would be feeling her first kicks in the week to come. I didn’t do anything very Halloween-y, and still wasn’t interested in chocolate (so weird), but I was starting to feel very, very happy about my growing bump.
I know that the next holiday, Thanksgiving, is going to be worse. I was full-on in love with my bump and my baby’s kicking. I loved being pregnant. I felt so beautiful, more beautiful and sexy than I’d ever felt in my whole life. I took photos with a red bell pepper on Thanksgiving day, and wore a sweater that was one size up. At the table I said thanks for my healthy, growing baby.
This year I will again say thanks for a healthy, growing baby. But Avalon will not be tasting stuffing for the first time, or wearing a “My First Thanksgiving” bib. She will be gone but the blessing she passed on to me in her Rainbow sister will be here.
That is truly something to be thankful for.