I imagined you
I dreamed of you
I’d thought of names I liked for you.
I included you in all our future dreams.
We thought about where you would sleep, where your bedroom would eventually be, your siblings and their relationship with you.
The complexities of our blended family, life and where you might fit into that puzzle. Would you be ok when your siblings were with their other families? Would we be ok, moving into a time where we would now have a child, without another family, every alternate weekend?
I loved you, I felt you, my body grew for you, my hormones changed for you, but for some unknown reason this wasn’t meant to be.
Now the heavy, aching uterus, the waves of grief, the tears that keep catching me by surprise, the emptiness, the waiting for my body to birth you.