Some Thoughts…

Photo by Luis Fernandes on

How am I not pregnant when I have pinpointed my ovulation two months in a row? It always sounded so much easier than it is…

I wonder if Costco sells jumbo boxes of pregnancy tests…

How can my brain so convincingly trick me into thinking I’m having pregnancy symptoms? I mean, I know that PMS symptoms can be similar, but I never have these symptoms, so why now?

It’s been 9 months since losing Ava. I spend a lot of time wondering about how she would have grown in these 9 months.

Do people who comment on other couples trying again so quickly after having baby, stop to think about the fact they are in the company of someone who would have loved to have gotten pregnant again right away? Or that the said couple may be trying right away because it was a struggle the first time? Or consider the fact none of the couple’s decisions or circumstances are any of their business?

I wonder how long we would have waited in between pregnancies if Ava had lived…

I absolutely despise the memes that say something along the lines of “Pray for us mothers with daughters. One more back talking and I will need bail.” Why do people think these memes are funny? At best, it’s joking about causing serious bodily harm to your child, at worst… joking about murdering your child? So it’s funny that your kid will be dead? By your hands? For something all kids do? Yeah, yeah, you’re blowing off steam and making light in order to cope. Parenting is hard. It’s still not funny.

Did I lose my sense of humor with Ava’s death?

Would I have made jokes like that or liked those memes?

If I ever have kids of my own, will I eventually take it for granted too? I hope not…

I wonder when the flashbacks stop. Will they ever? One minute I’m laying in bed trying to sleep or sitting at my desk, or watching TV – the next I am reliving the silent ultrasound room when they wouldn’t tell me something was wrong, or sobbing in fear as we drive to the hospital, or the doctor leaning down to speak in my ear as an oxygen mask is put on my face, or the ultrasound tech saying “I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat,” or delivering Ava and shaking uncontrollably…

Do I want them to stop?

Oh how I miss my Ava.

I would relive those moments a thousand times over if it meant seeing Ava again.

If only love could have saved her.

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