T-minus 3 days

Selah's due date is on Saturday. So far I'm doing O.K. But I just keep thinking about what I would be doing at any given moment...



I would be huge.
I would be waddling.
I would be contracting on and off.
I would be feeling my daughter within me...moving...hiccuping...living.
I would be packing for the hospital.
The 'guest' room would no longer be a guest room, but a nursery.

I would have baby clothes and diapers nicely folded in her new room.
I would not have a plastic box containing my daughter, resting on the piano.
I would be excited and apprehensive and planning.
I would be explaining the arrival of the new baby to Asher...getting him ready for his sibling..his sister.
I would be doing so much...feeling so much...but all that is gone.

In three days, or five if I went into labor like I did with Asher, I would be delivering another very loud, pink, wiggly little bundle of joy and blessing. But instead of holding my beautiful, breathing, sweet little girl, I'll be grieving her. Life isn't fair and I want to slam my body down upon the ground and kick and scream in God's presence.

I keep seeing my friends post about how lucky and blessed they are...or that they have this kick ass, amazing life. And though I'm so happy for them and want only happiness and blessing to fall upon their lives...I also want to puke. Don't get me wrong...I have a pretty darn happy life. I have a super sweet husband who rocks and whom I love dearly, and a son who is absolutely amazing and lovely and who fills my heart each and every day. I have friends who love me and support me and who are amazing...and a family whom I love...but I've also gone through hell and the feelings of cold, dark fingers pulling me down into the abyss, still haunt me. I have a love-hate relationship with my life. It's been a rough road these past 3 years...a road I never thought I'd have to travel. Maybe I'm jealous of my friends who have such a 'blessed' life. Maybe I'm just starting to relate more to those who've seen the darkness. I don't know.

What I do know, is that in three days, my little girl was suppose to come into our lives, alive and warm. We were suppose to be able to meet her, get to know her, love her and watch her grow. But we won't be able to do that. We don't get that blessing. And that sucks. We should be all happy and giddy and excited. But we're not. We're just not.

I miss you sweet, baby girl. You're forever imprinted on my heart and in my soul. You are my beautiful sunshine, my sweet daughter. I love you and miss you so.