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December 2, 2001

It's almost Christmas. I was looking at a baby boy outfit the other day at work and I held it as if I was holding a baby and it made me pretty sad. Every time I get near my time of the month I hold my breath in case I'm pregnant. But that is silly because we do not have insurance.
My whole being wants a child. My empty womb aches for a new life to grow within its safe walls.
I am tired a lot and I pretend it's because I'm pregnant, ignoring the fact that I don't get much sleep.
A and I are getting counseling together a week from today.
I wish I was buying a beautiful Christmas outfit for my child instead of mourning a death. I wish I was worrying about stretch marks instead of having a flat stomach. I wish I was cooking for my family instead of for A & I.
I'm at work so I can't cry. But if I was at home, I would.
I think I'll write a letter to my little baby.

Dear Baby,
Thanksgiving was lonely without you. I never thought I would hurt for you so much. I think about you and what you could have looked like and I get sad. I wanted to see your beautiful eyes twinkle with laughter.
I love you, baby. Say hi to Jesus for me.