It occurred to me the other day that one year ago this month, I was due with the baby we lost. Our sweet little tiny. Tiny’s first birthday could have been today, or yesterday, or last week. My due date came and went without much thought.
Because I don’t think about my miscarriage very often. But I think about it.
I don’t miss what might have been. Except when I do.
I don’t wonder what tiny might have looked like or if we would have finally been able to use the name Lucy. Most of the time.
I don’t know that I will ever really truly be able to think of tiny with out tears in my eyes.
And I am ok with that.
Tiny, you are loved. And I believe we will meet you one day.