I was pregnant. 18 weeks 5 days, to be exact. A healthy, SMA free baby girl. We did a ton of testing to make sure this baby was healthy. We waited until well after my first trimester ended to tell Daisy. Needless to say, she was so excited and told everyone, everywhere that she was going to have a baby sister. I had finally felt comfortable bringing Daisy to a midwife appointment and during the appointment, when it was time to listen to the heartbeat, my sweet midwife, Sarah let her “help” with the doppler. Minutes went by and I kept waiting for that rapid heartbeat that brought tears to my eyes each time I heard it. It never came. I kept shooting Ethan worried looks, but Sarah assured me that there have been women further along than me where she was not able to hear the heartbeat. She made an appointment for me at the hospital for an ultrasound. They were not able to find the heartbeat either. The baby measured 14 weeks. Another devastating loss. Our dreams of growing our family, of adding a sibling… shattered…

Telling Daisy was awful. In 4 years of life, her heart has now been significantly broken twice. She cried. So many tears from such beautiful eyes. So many questions, so few answers.  “The baby stopped growing”, we told her. “Baby sister is in your heart”, we reminded her.

I crave normalcy. Joy. Lightness. I want a sibling for my daughter. I want to feel the kick of a baby from the inside. I want my belly to get big and beautiful. I want the pain and fear and exhilaration that comes from giving birth. I want exhaustion from a newborn’s sleepless night. I want the awe of counting 10 little fingers and 10 little toes over and over and over because I can not believe that I actually grew this little person. I want normalcy. Joy. Lightness. I didn’t realize this was too much to want.