Even Now

I had a miscarriage two years ago.

Two years ago today, actually.

It's not something I talk about much.

Even now.  Two years later.

I've had another baby since then.  Sweet little Ellie - the world's happiest, most easygoing baby.

But I still think about the baby we lost.

Even now.  Two years later.

It was too early in the pregnancy to know, but Nathan and I both thought it was a boy.  We even had a name tentatively picked out:  Kieran.

Lindsay was pregnant at the same time I was, our due dates one day apart.  I can't look at her daughter without thinking, "That's how big he would have been now."

People are always telling me I have the "perfect" family - two kids, a girl and a boy.  I want to correct them - "I don't have two kids, I have three!" - but the words never get past the lump in my throat.

I bought a special Christmas ornament for the baby.  We buy one for Topher and Ellie every year, so last year I added one extra.  It's a glass ornament with a star inside.  I didn't tell anyone what it meant.  Just knowing, myself, is enough.

I used to go for walks in the evenings, after it happened.  The song I had on repeat on my iPod was Rachael Lampa's "Feel".  It really helped me in the days - weeks - months - following.   I've been listening to it a lot lately, too.

After I had my miscarriage, I heard from other women - family, friends - who had experienced the same.  It was nice to know I wasn't alone, but nobody talks about the "Even now".  The two years later.  I don't entirely understand the silence, but I know, for me, it's because it's still hard.

And I wonder if it will get any easier.