I’m sad this morning.

Everyday I think about my baby. I think of her name, what her favorite color will be, which words she’ll pronounce wrong that will forever make me smile, I think of her love and her sweet personality.

I think of how I’ll never watch her grow, I’ll never see her first step, her first tear, or any other firsts we go through.

See, she’ll never be half of the person I love and half of me. Because as much as I beg and plead to have her my body shuts me down every time.

On my second miscarriage at the age of 20, knowing from professionals this is all it will ever be, this is the closest I’ll ever get to you, and I wish I was okay with that life but when I see yours end before it starts I wish I could stop the process. I wish it was up to me.

They say mind over matter, but how? I have to start school going through this again, I have to be a good wife going through this again, I have to be a friend to my pregnant best friend while going through this again, I have to be happy and smile through the pain again.

I have to leave you again when all I want is to love you for the first time.