I was restless in my bed.
My stomach kept churning and undulating.
That’s when I remembered, "HER"
She was always restless and energetic inside of me. I never slept because of her.
I was 5 months.
But all so suddenly, now that she's is gone what am I to do now?
I gave birth to a fetus.
Not a baby.
When I laid my eyes on my daughter glazed in amniotic fluid and blood, a flood of tears and shock rocked back and forth in my soul.
All because I was told she would have Down syndrome and the expenses of caring for this sick child exceeded my husband’s income.
My 5 year old asked me, "What is that mommy?"
Subconsciously I told her, "That’s your sister"
She said, "no its not!"

Weeks have passed and I am without my baby.
I am losing my mind.
I was just fine two minutes ago.
I look in the mirror and make myself pretty.
I wanted to make myself look my best because I was at my worst.
I see a wet stain on my purple shirt.
Why is this happening to me?!
What did I do?!
The need to feed my child.
The need to be a mother is suffocating
I feel completely obsessed.
Who will I feed with my milk filled *******?
Overflowing randomly; feeling self-conscious when I'm amongst guests because I am afraid they will notice the milk stains on my chest.
Every single night I feel my baby close to me.
Inside me.
Moving abnormally and viciously, kicking me gently but with a healthy strength of vitality.
I still feel it.
There isn’t a day that goes by without me crying at night.
My daughter keeps complaining that her sister is not in sight.
I do all in my power to be a mother and explain in fragile terms that our baby is with god and she will never have to suffer.
Be she doesn’t understand
I don’t expect her to.
So I stay awake for days.
I’m restless.
There is literally no one I can talk to that will make me feel better or put my daughter back in her womb so that she may further develop.
My 17 year old is always worried about me.
He was always talking to my belly and to the baby
That was exciting and so strange.
My son was taking his father’s job by caring for me, talking to me, being present next to me…until the baby was stolen from me.
She used to kick every time she heard her brother’s voice.
My five year old was going to have a friend.
She wasn’t going to be alone in her room playing with her dolls, giving them names, making them her sisters.
I frequently hear her say, "I love my sister with all my heart. My name is jaji and I’m your best sister ever"
First my heart breaks.
Then I start to cry.
My worried seventeen year old comes and asks me why.
I tell him what I feel, what I've felt, and what I’ve dealt with.
How the doctors basically told me giving birth to this baby was granting my death wish.
I felt a little selfish because I didn’t care about my life
I cared about hers.
But then I remembered about my two daughters and two sons.
How much they’ve suffered to see me smile.
My death will not make that worthwhile.
I have never felt this more depressed in my life.
So with this sacrifice of another one of the pieces of mine.
I’ve learned to endure and persevere through my difficult traumatic troubled life.
But inside...
Inside... my baby was still alive.