Its been three months since Omie was born & died, and I’m not sure how to feel. On one hand, this is a day I’ve been waiting for since I found out about the TAC surgery that will save my future babies – most surgeons won’t place a TAC until 3 months post-loss, to allow the cervix & uterus to return to “normal.” And honestly, I feel much “better” than I expected to (which comes with its own guilt, but thats for later). The grief isn’t crushing me anymore, and I almost feel like we’re finding our new normal.
On the other hand, Omie would’ve been 3 months old today, had he survived, and I wonder who he would’ve been by now. Would he still be in the NICU? Would he have hair by now? What would his lil cries sound like?
I’m doing my best to take time to really feel anything I need to feel today, but despite my best efforts, life is moving forward and I’ve got lots to do. Jason & I are moving into our new home today, so I’m moving boxes and getting that set up. Today is also my niece’s third birthday, and I really want to be able to see her & celebrate a bit. She was my first baby, and this is such a big milestone in her lil life.
But even these new, happy things bring a hint of sadness. My niece will never meet Noah or Omie, they’ll never be at her birthday parties. And this new house was supposed to be our “first” as a family, me, Jason, & Omie. During our pregnancy, we had a plan to move this month so I’d have time to nest & prepare Omie’s nursery before his May due date. But now we’re headed to our new place alone, and that sucks.
I think these moments illustrate what day-to-day is like as a loss momma. There is so much in life that I’m looking forward to, so many good things going on, and such a bright future ahead. But, in almost everything, I feel their absence. Because, when you lose a baby, you lose everything – birthdays & first days of school & the sound of their voice & little moments and memories that make up a life.