I lay and feel this baby, 16 weeks along now, move and wiggle inside me. I cannot get enough of each and every womb-touch. I take it all in. I gulp and gulp and swallow this experience whole. I cannot. Get. Enough.
Laying in a dark room in my bed with a completely silent womb. The older sister to this now growing baby having just died. At only 18 weeks along, almost where we are now in this pregnancy, my fourth baby, my first girl, was gone. But still inside me. Then she was born asleep and I got to see her face and be with her in the only way I’d ever get to.
I remember asking God why.
I remember not liking His answer.