Seventy days are all I had with Jensen’s sibling.

In that short amount of time I took pictures, laughed out loud, and had hope for the future ahead of us. Everything was going to be right with this baby. We had an angel looking out for us. I was feeling so positive in that time, the anxiety of pregnancy after loss didn’t set in.

When this child died, my world crumbled again. The days I was stuck on the couch, I looked at all I had from this pregnancy. It doesn’t dent the amount of things I had for Jensen, but this is what it is. I had a feeling this baby was a girl and planned the nursery out. There were clothes I had on my Etsy favorites and I even bought a little onesie for his or her arrival. The truth is, I didn’t know anything about the baby growing inside me, besides it was mine and I loved it very much.

Last week, my doctor’s office called and wanted me to go back in to hear more of the results from the testing on the baby. Today was the day I went back in.

I found out the exact reason why this baby died and that there was no fault on my part. That the reason I lost this child would be unlikely to happen again in a subsequent pregnancy, which I’ve heard before then lost again. From the testing, I found out that even if they baby made it full term, they would have died shortly after. Hearing that didn’t make it easier to know I miscarried. I guess I should be glad for future babies, but I don’t feel that. It just felt/feels like I was in a whirlwind of information, but it was always backed up by the hope of the future. Sometimes when we’re pressured just to look towards the future, we don’t really grasp how we feel in the present.

There was one, big fact I learned about my child, he was a boy.

The six weeks I knew about him, I thought he was a girl. Somehow finding out that little piece of information gives me a little more closure. He isn’t just a disregarded ‘it.’ Jensen has a little brother to play with in heaven. They can do what boys do and that makes me smile.

It has been a hard day. Obviously.

As soon as I came home, I pulled out all the papers I had on him and the things I bought so early on to put them in his own little drawer. Then I looked on my phone and saw the pictures I had of him. There’s not a lot, but it’s all I have and cherish.

His name is Huxley. This is a snippet of his life: his infinity.