Due date

Today I would likely have held you.
I would have yawned- probably from a lack of sleep.
Today I would have snuggled you close, and been grateful for your soft hair and your button nose.

Today you would have been born- maybe.
Or maybe I would be lecturing you on the importance of punctuality. Eating spicy food and bouncing on yoga balls to get you to come out already.

Maybe I would be holding your hands, reading to you, wrapping you in a blanket because your father keeps the house so cold.


But instead today I am alone. Missing you. I am holding your blanket, small and incomplete. Crying steadily and feeling so stuck, and so inadequate- a pain so strong in my chest that I feel sure there is an actual crack if you look close enough.

Last night I was fine. Part of me worried that I'd get to April 22 and it would pass without me noticing. Then suddenly, without warning, I realized I was sitting in the office. A room full of computers and bikes- the room that would have been your nursery. I drank a beer- because there is no reason not to.
I am not a mother. I have no child. No one calls me mom.

This is not going to be an articulate post full of wisdom for me to look back on.

No, this is an expression of hopelessness and pain. This is a woman feeling every inch of the failure she owns. It was not a choice, it was nothing I would have been able to change but it was my body that failed to keep you safe and it is my arms that are empty today.

Today I would have held you Josh.
and I am so sorry that I can't.