First birthday photo shoot.

Two years ago, I never imagined I’d only have sixteen days left with Jensen.

Everything was all ready for his arrival. All I had to do was go to my appointments and wait for him to make his big entrance outside the womb. I can remember being so swollen and tired, but so excited.

I took those last weeks for granted (or maybe I’m just being hard on myself). It didn’t feel like he was going to die and on his scans, he looked perfect. There hasn’t been a day since I heard those words that I haven’t wished I could go back and get him out early. Or at the very least, read a book to him one more time or just tell him I loved him again. I hope he heard me singing or speaking calmly the last time he heard my voice.

I hope he knew he wasn’t alone. 

It’s been a HARD few weeks for me. With his second birthday coming up quicker than I can process, I’ve felt like a failure to him. Last year, I planned a party and felt like I was doing all that I could do for him. This year, I haven’t planned anything and I feel like I can’t ask for help. I know, I sound pathetic right now. I just want to see his name and I don’t want anyone to forget about him. That’s one of my biggest fears about parenting him. He’s the first thing I think about when I wake up and I send my words to him every night. Right now, I just don’t feel like I’m doing enough for him and he deserves the world.

Mixed with all those feelings of inadequacy of parenting him the only way I can, pregnancy after loss is driving me to the brink of insanity. That’s not me being dramatic.

Jensen and Mila’s due dates are three days apart… I’m literally reliving the same timeline with her as I did him. Words cannot describe how scary it is thinking I might only have sixteen or so days left with her. In my  head, if she’s not out by the fifth, she’ll be gone too. It’s terrifying to feel like I’m living with a ticking death time bomb in my belly. Yeah, I know stress and anxiety isn’t good for me right now, but it’s ever-present. Somehow I think if I can just get her out at thirty-seven weeks, I could save her.

I wish it was different.

Part of me thinks if I could just sleep until she was born, maybe I’ll make it through this. Another part of me doesn’t allow myself any sleep because this is all I could have with her. No matter what, I’m still thinking of Jensen and I hope his presence never leaves us alone.

Stillbirth isn’t a joke. It’s a lifetime… presence/experience/tragedy, that people just don’t shake off. Jensen’s death impacts everyday of my life, even almost two years out and I can imagine it stays like that forever. It affects this pregnancy and how I’ll, hopefully, parent Mila outside the womb.

Stillbirth has changed my world. 

Before I end, I want to say a few more things…

1. I don’t know when I’ll be induced or what’s going on until Thursday. Her growth scan is that day and I’m going to ask to talk to the doctor about everything. I will try to update when I know.
2. Continued thanks for everything who has supported me through this crazy journey. I know I’ve been quiet on here, anxiety and grief have just created such a block for me.
3. Lastly, with Jensen’s upcoming second birthday, I would love to see his name written if anyone has time. If you do, I’d be so happy to see them through Facebook, Instagram, or a comment on here. I hate to ask for anything, but it would mean a lot.