saying goodbye. again.

I have some time today.  Miss K is over at grandma’s bouncing around in the pool.

So, Im cleaning.

And when I was moving some things to the garage, a bag fell out.

One that I hadn’t thought about in some time.  

The bag holding my memories of my first pregnancy.  And so I took a moment.  Read the cards.  Held the stuffed animal my mom brought me in the hospital.  Looked at each small trinket, given to me when we told people we were having a baby.  

I looked at them and allowed myself a few moments of grief.  Crying.  Remembring.

Because nothing is worse than feeling like you can’t mourn.  I felt like that for a long time.  “You weren’t that far along”.  “Only 9 weeks”. “You’ll have another”.  “Good thing it happened earlier, rather than later.”

And while all those things are/were true….

No.

I was a mother the moment that stick turned pink and I felt that child.  I wanted THAT child.  

So, allow me to mourn.  Allow me to cry and allow me a moment to say goodbye.  It isn’t the first time I will, and it won’t be the last.  

Sure, I never met my baby.  I never touched his or her face.  I didn’t see them grow.  

But I would still like to say goodbye.  

So I will.

And then be glad for what I have and what would never have been, had this crippling event not happened.   And while I still miss my first baby, I am happy for what I have been given.