Cricket would have been 5 months old by now. A real live baby. A loved baby.
The pain of our loss really does grow less sharp with time. But there are those moments where you really think about it, you really let it sink in, you really feel the unfairness of it all. And those moments are.... what? Yes, they are terrible. But sometimes I think they are the only time I am being honest with myself. And all the rest of the time that I'm living life as usual (or trying to, anyway) is all just a big ploy to cover up the fact that I'm so empty.
I miss knowing that our baby is growing inside of me. I miss imagining Cricket as a boy or Cricket as a girl and believing that I'll get to find out which fantasy is right someday. I miss wondering what it will feel like when Cricket kicks me from inside my own belly. I miss Mr. Unexpected kissing my belly and talking to Cricket.
I miss believing that I will hold my baby in my arms someday.
Yes, the unfairness of it all is so terrible, but sometimes it feels like it's all that I have left.