complicated words tumbled out of your mouth.
words strung together hastily, tripping over themselves.
you grasped my hands, trying to convince me to stay.
my fingers slipped out as I made to walk away.

I didn’t want you; just liked the thought of someone.
I didn’t need you; you were just an anchor so I didn’t drown.

I didn’t want you; just liked the idea of you.

only a few days since your birthday passed, the second one I’ve celebrated without you here.
it’s strange, uncharted ground for me to navigate without you standing beside me.
missing you doesn’t get any easier, but it doesn’t get harder, either.
almost like I’ve somehow gathered the strength to stand on my own without feeling like I’ll crumple without help.
my daughter has your smile, and her eyes crinkle the same way yours does.
I pray that she has the same grace as you, and that her kindness and compassion mirrors yours.
I promise she’ll get to know you the same way I did.
she makes me want to live, not just survive.
the same thing you had begged me to do, when your impending passing threatened to destroy every last piece of will I had in my body.
i made it, after two years of rebuilding myself, and not running scared of the strength and solidity I found within.
thank you, for igniting that spark, and for all the years I got to learn how to be balanced and kind.

Less than five weeks to go.
Less than five weeks of feeling you stretch and grow in the limited space of my womb.
I can’t wait. I can’t wait to meet you.
Can’t wait for the nights where all you want is me. Can’t wait for the mornings where I’m exhausted from being up all night, but content with baby snuggles.
you were the surprise we didn’t expect, but embraced with open minds and open hearts.
Mom is feeling so tired with the limited mobility she has,  but feeling you move has me filled with gratitude.
I wonder if you’ll look like your daddy and have my attitude.
I wonder if you’ll hate shoes as much as I did as a kid.
Oh the possibilities are endless, but so fun to imagine who you’ll turn out to be when you arrive.

I lay awake for yet another night;
your tiny feet kicking around, looking for more room.
it’s not uncommon for me to wonder how we got here; two pink lines and a heartbeat.
as I still my hand over my ever growing belly, you eagerly meet mine with your steady growing ones.
and despite the aches and pains of contractions, I lightly push against you, anxious to feel you kick me in return.
and even though some days I can’t move through the pain, I love you more each day.
you’ll never know how excited I am to see you.
sweet girl, oh you are something else; someone bound to move mountains and change the world.
For you, my sweet child, are made for something far bigger and better than I ever was.

spring came again, and I find myself wondering how time flies by so fast.
just yesterday it feels like I was holding your hand, and reveling in the time we had left together.
and now, I am left to once again pick up the pieces from the aftermath of a tragedy, one that I couldn't prevent.
losing you was the hardest hit I've taken in years, and it's the one thing that I will never fully recover from.
I don't regret a single moment I spent with you, because those memories are precious and I don't want to forget them.
I spent months being angry and bottling up my feelings because I couldn't comprehend losing you at such a fragile time.
when you said you were ready to go, I couldn't understand the words you were saying.
and it's been almost a year, and I've tried to be patient with myself, just like you advised me to do.
and the sun peeks out every now and then, and I am reminded of how very lucky I was to have you.
Oh how I wish you were here; I think you'd like the way the sun lights up the trees.
Happy spring, you wonderful soul; till we meet again.

Flutters. Butterflies when you text me.
Something in your voice pulls me in
Love. This is for real this time.
Hold me tightly and don't let go.