Thursday, April 7, 2016


Nine years of marriage. 4 years of infertility treatments. 10+ assisted cycles. Two beautiful IVF babies.

A surprise positive pregnancy test in a Starbucks bathroom.

Possibly the happiest I've ever been in my life.

8 weeks later, I take the pills that flush the would-be-baby from my body. There was no more heartbeat. Bye bye baby.

2 weeks later my friend from my tight knit moms board tells me she's pregnant. Along with the other friend who was 2 weeks ahead of me. Would have been two weeks ahead of me.

May 1 due date means I would have been 37 weeks next week. G-man came just over 37 weeks.

I'm 40 now. I know there are likely no more babies. Watching my friends get ready to welcome their babies. A boy for the mom of two girls. A girl for the mom that already has one of each.

My #2 is 30 months. He could have been a big brother if life was fair. My mom might have had a granddaughter.

 I always thought I'd have three kids. Things just don't always go how you thought.

I love my boys. I know I'm lucky.

But my heart still grieves.

It's just not fair.