Entry 020

Today was my due date. For the fourth time, I should’ve welcomed a baby into the world today. Today, I should have gotten to touch his skin and know the color of his eyes. Today, I should have seen the happiness on my husband’s face as he finally got to hold one of his babies.

I could tell you about how today was like any other day. I could tell you about how I woke up and made coffee. How I went to work and through the same routine as other days. How I came home from work and ate dinner with my husband. How I did the dishes and went to the gym. And how I didn’t have a baby.

But this day is nothing new. This story has been written before. This is my fourth due date and the for the fourth time, I’ve woken up and went along with my day while my heart is in pieces and my mind is scrambled, wondering how nobody can see the pain through my forced smile.

For nearly three months, I thought today would be the best day of my life. I thought today would give us the baby I begged God to let us keep. I thought today would’ve been the day we’d feel whole again.

But I didn’t have a baby today.

Emily Lindquist