My birthday is honestly a sad reminder of how fast time has gone.
At the age of 24 I was announcing my pregnancy with Bug.
At 25 I was mourning the loss of my son and unknowingly was pregnant with my second.
And now at 26 I was both mourning Bug, again as always, and spent my day with Carter.
Birthdays are still a very touchy subject to me.
If you honestly don't understand why, just think about it.
Considering Bug never had a birthday per say, is hard enough, but I will never call November 14th his death day or angelversary like a lot of the members of the stillbirth community do.
I also still love the saying that being born still is still being born (hence the hashtag I always use #bornstillisstillborn)
I remember being pregnant with Carter, and in a parenting after loss group I'm a part of, people always wanted to announce their pregnancy on a big holiday like their birthday, thanksgiving, Christmas etc, and I would always say please be careful and mindfull of what you are about to do. If something were to happen, that day would never be the same for you ever again.
A few of those ladies went on to have healthy pregnancies and babies, and a few more of them did not
I then recieved personal messages saying, I unfortunately now understand what you meant by what you said, and you weren't just being a bitch. It was funny to the ladies in the group that I didnt announce mt pregnancy let alone his birrh, until 2 weeks after having him.
With us knowing they were going to take Carter early, we had at one point thought we wanted to announce as soon as we got home from the hospital, which if we had him on the 20th like we were supposed to, would have landed on Christmas.
I immediately said nope were going to wait, for we were totally unaware of all the emotions and feelings we are going to have if we actually had a baby.
So this year, like every year since, I put on the yay, its my birthday face, but inside, my heart is just breaking.
Here's to 26....
