One year ago today

I learned what it meant to be "a little bit pregnant". I knew what it was to have a wiggling, living, baby inside of me...and be told I would never love her outside of me. I learned what it felt like to be told the best thing to do would be to end my child's life.

My whole world turned upside down and I am not so sure it ever really righted it's self again.

I have grown and loved and felt joy in this last year.

I have also known pain that hurt so deep I could barely catch my breath. I know the ache of a mother's arms without one of her babies to fill them.

I know what it is to long for something I will never see or know.

God has been so incredibly faithful to me, held me as I wanted to crumble into a mess on the floor.

Today though, on a day motherhood is celebrated, it feels too big and I want so badly to wake-up and find this whole year was nothing more than a nightmare.

I rejoice over new babies and my heart breaks in every smile...I want my baby so badly today. I want to love her and kiss her. I want to hold her in my arms and nurse her to sleep. I want to pace the floor with her when she can't sleep.

It's hard sometimes, and a little overwhelming to know that I will feel all of these things every day.