A Day of Anniversaries

September 4, 2004, I married the love of my life at 20 years old. I never knew what lied ahead for us. I knew we both wanted to be young parents, and just knew it would happen. We were married, already owned our own house and had stable jobs. We were way better off than any of our friends, and they were getting pregnant left and right and none of them had half of we had.

September 4, 2011, here we are, still here, still married, just the two of us. My first baby was due September 4, 2007. We should be extremely stressed out while planning for 50 people to come over and celebrate a little girl's 4th birthday. I wonder what she would have liked. Disney Princesses? Smurfs? Barbies? Zoo Animals? The thoughts are endless. Instead of overlooking our anniversary so our first born could have the best birthday a little girl could have, we visit the cemetery to say a quick hello to her. Well, we don't really get to say hi to her, we visit a statue that was donated to the cemetery from the hospital that performed my d&c on February 7, 2007 at 10 weeks gestation after her heart stopped beating unexpectedly. Each step to that beautiful statue that represents all those little babies and all the families that didn't opt to take their baby's remains home with them is hard. To get to that statue, you pass hundreds of babies lives that were cut way too short. I've always gone to the cemetery in February when you have to trudge through two feet of snow. You know you are walking through graves, but you are spared the details. Today I noticed little ones that passed away the same day they were born, at two days old, one month old, and even two years old. It isn't fair. It's not fair that there are so many parents out there who have had to bury their children and it isn't fair to the babies that that their lives were taken away from them. As I finally got to that statue, and my husband and I hold each other, I can't believe it has been more than 4 1/2 years since we lost our first baby, whose name was probably going to be Brooklyn.

Today I took a picture of that statue. I know I have one around my house saved on a CD somewhere, but I wanted to text it to my friend, Stefanie, as I know she would appreciate the beauty of it. When I get back to the car, I sent Stefanie that picture. After I sent it, I noticed that there was a rainbow shooting across the front of the picture. Maybe "Brooklyn" was there with me today and is going to attempt sending me yet another rainbow? I hope so!




Today also marks four months since I delivered Adrianna. I can't believe it's already been four months. I can, and often do, replay moments of that day in my head. As I replay them, I know that nothing could have been changed. I know that I did nothing wrong. I delivered my baby girl too early, and I miss her with all my heart. I think about her constantly and often look at her pictures. Her ashes are in my bedroom and I talk to her all the time. I hope that she looks down on her Daddy and I and know that we love her sooo much. I would do anything to have her back.

So, after seven years of marriage here we are, still here, still married, just the two of us.