letters to hazel

this week is going to be particularly hard for us.

this week we would have been finishing up a nursery. i would have been sitting in there folding and refolding baby clothes. i would have been making padscicles and making sure my hospital bag was packed. we would have been going over our birth plan with the doctor and making sure he knew what we needed. we would have been prepping freezer meals and finalizing plans of where the boys would stay over the weekend. i would be taking a 39 week baby bump photo and adding it to my bump profile.

instead, we are digging a hole for where the plum tree will be planted, prepping the earth for growth in remembrance instead of prepping our home and my body for growth of human life. we are deciding on a cupcake flavor and which color candle to light to honor our loss instead of one to light in praise of birth. sweet messages will be written on paper that will have tears of sadness and heartache dripped all over it instead of tears of joy. and while i’m happy and my heart is full that we will have this tree to watch grow and bear fruit that we can enjoy, and we have found a way to softly and lovingly celebrate our what-could-have-been each year, and that we have a miracle baby growing inside of me right now, i can’t help but feel an ache and overwhelming sadness that on friday, i will not be driving to the hospital to bring our sweet baby hazel earth side and kiss her sweet head and feel her tiny fingers wrap around mine and watch my husband and boys fall in love all over again while i fall in love with them even more.

the pain of losing a baby will never go away, no matter how many things you try fill in their place. missing you still and always, hazel mae.