where to start. For the past three weeks I’ve thought about writing this post yet every time I sit down to write I’m at a loss for what to say.
There’s no delicate way to share that after finding out your unborn baby has a terminal birth defect you and your husband decide, at 13 weeks, to end the pregnancy.
We found out the news about our baby on a Monday and I had the procedure that following Thursday. The time from that first ultrasound to the procedure life just stopped for us. There was nothing else that mattered. The pain was almost unbearable. I don’t know how we would have gotten through it without Lucy. She was what carried us through that week. She was our only source of happiness and hope.
Since the procedure life has gone on. Between running my business, working with my mom to launch a new one and caring for a 1 year old, the hours never seem like enough and I am scurrying throughout the day trying to fit it all in. It’s the nights, when I get into bed and see our baby’s beautiful footprints on my nightstand that I’m reminded I just recently had a baby inside me, one that should still be there but isn’t. It all feels very unfair. For Geo and I, for Lucy, for my loved ones and most of all, for this baby that was so little but already so loved.
I’ve struggled with whether I wanted to share this online or not. I’ve truly gone back and fourth, but what kept bringing me back to this space is my desire to honor this baby. I want people to know I think of myself as a mother of two babies; the one who after a very busy day of practicing walking is peacefully sleeping in her crib, and the baby who I know will always look over that sleeping baby and who someday I’ll get to meet. This baby meant so much to George and I. This baby deserves to be acknowledged and that’s why I’m overlooking my fear of being judged or ridiculed for sharing such personal information because if I don’t, it’s as if it didn’t happen, and it did.
These are just the most perfect little feet I’ve ever seen.