11 months

11 months

47 weeks

334 days

8030 hours

481801 minutes

Since I held you beautiful boys , since I sang to you. Since I was able to smell you. Since I was able to rock you both. Since I gave “birth” to you beautiful angels. Since a part of me died.

Next month will be your first birthdays and I am dreading it. I am already crying and hyperventilating And hurting. I don’t know how I am going to be able to handle February. I’m already falling apart. This year has already been shitty to be honest. So much has already been going to hell.

Every day that has past my heart has been aching more to be with you, to hold you, I don’t know what to do anymore. To get out of bed is hurting more and more. Breathing is hurting more.

I knew the first birthday would be hard, but I didn’t think it would be this hard. It’s a black void that is plaguing my entire existence. My sweet little loves, god know how much it hurts to talk about you. How much it hurts to explain how much I miss you. How much I want to see you play , and laugh and giggle and chase your siblings.

I blame myself everyday. I had a beautiful healthy pregnancy and carried you boys to term just for you to be stillborn at 35 weeks. That’s bullshit. Everyday I wake up my hurt hurts, every day i can’t look at myself because it hurts more and more. Feb. 24th will be your first birthday and it’s a nightmare that I can’t wake up from. Why aren’t you here to celebrate? Why aren’t you here? Why can’t I hold you? Why can’t I love you? Why can’t I be your mum? Why wasn’t I careful enough to know something was wrong?


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