I thought the moment I graduated from high school I would feel grown up.
Maybe it would be when I had my first car or got my first job.
Going out on a first date, that was a grown up thing to do right?
Becoming an assistant manager in a woman's retail store.
Moving in to our first place together.
Setting up all of our utilities.
Paying bills and living on a budget.
Having to testify in court.
Having a baby.
Being a full time stay at home mommy.
I am an adult so naturally I must be grown up.
I thought maybe it would be the day we brought home our second baby.
The time frame of me babysitting two kids while being a mom to my own two and being a wife. I thought I was grown up and old when we were going through failure to thrive with Bug (our second.) and I was having to do all sorts of difficult things.
Today I feel old.
I feel weathered and worn.
I feel broken and busted.
Bruised and battered.
I feel empty and numb.
Nothing prepares you to go through a miscarriage.
Nothing prepares you to go through losing a baby.
I use to read some blogs that I had stumbled across.
Mom's who had experiences the unimaginable.
Mom's who opened up the broken parts of their hearts and shared them with other women.
I use to read them and go "oh my...I can't imagine..."
I might snoop around and read more about their life.
I would pray for them.
And then I would click the little red X at the top of the page.
But this...this is now my life.
I can't click the little red X because there isn't one.
This is not how it should be.
But this is how it is.
In a matter of a few hours I went from feeling full, excited, and getting ready to be a mom of three, a work at home mom with an etsy shop, and a woman who loves her God and her husband.
I went from planning to go out and celebrate with my husband one day to talking to my doctor about having a miscarriage.
Now I'm a mommy to three.
I have two babies who are currently asleep upstairs in their room.
I have one baby who is in heaven in the arms of Jesus.
And I'm broken.
My heart is broken. My womb is empty.
I have cried more in a matter of a couple of days
than I have in the last probably 10 years combined.
My cheeks hurt from the salt of my tears.
My eyes are blood shot, red, and puffy.
In a matter of a few hours I went from thinking and dreaming of the rest of this year, getting excited for when our new little love would arrive, thinking of going to the fair and being pregnant, thinking of Christmas and hanging five stockings, to now thinking of how there is an empty space in our home.
I still love my God.
I will still praise Him and I know He is close to me and holding my broken heart.
I am still a woman who loves her husband like crazy and I know we'll get through this together.
But I'm so different now.
I'm a different person than I was on Wednesday.
I could never imagine this is who I would become.
I'm now a 24 year old mom to three.
I'm the mom who is just doing what she has to in order to get through the day.
I wake up with my hand on my stomach and smile
but then I remember there is nothing there.
I get up and change Bug's diaper with tears in my eyes.
I meet the demands of both boys who are hungry and thirsty.
I do what I have to do.
Then once my boys are in bed I cry and mourn our other child.
I miss the life we almost had.