I've been buttering you all up...

did you notice?

See, I've posted funny things this week because I knew what this weekend was going to bring. I am trying to stay positive and be happy, but it isn't working as well as I had hoped.

Today is the last day that I will be able to say "A year ago I was pregnant with Blue." Really, I can't even say that. Yesterday was the last day that I was really pregnant with Blue. Today, a year ago, the doctors told us that his heart had stopped beating. And ours did too.

I hold a lot of anger towards the whole thing. I wish they had explained things better. I wish they had let me make a more informed choice. What would I have done different? I'm not 100% sure. Jenn and I would have had a longer conversation about how Blue would have come into the world. I am 100% sure I would have had him cremated. I could have him here with us.

Saved in my files on my work computer is an 18 page letter that I have written to the hospital. 18 pages of how they should handle things in the future. 18 pages of anger, tears, and lessons on how to better communicate. Not only did we lose our son that day, we lost our chance to keep him forever. I had no idea what I was signing up for in "choosing" the D&E. We will never know what his precious face looks like. We will never be able to say we held his hand. Kissed our sons toes. I feel very cheated, not only by his death, but the way it all was handled. I don't ever want to see Dr. A again.

The fact that five days later Jenn had surgery in the same hospital and was treated with more care and sympathy than I was also royally pisses me off. I wasn't even sent home with painkillers. No one warned me about the contractions. No one warned me that my breasts would leak milk. Milk that our son would ever be able to taste. Milk that had no chance of sustaining Blue.

There isn't a hour that goes by that I don't relive the entire thing, more the sounds, the voices. Hearing my doctor not say the words. Hearing myself scream. Scream so loud it still echos through my head. Calling my parents and hearing my dad's pain. Hearing Elissa not believe me. Hearing Lyz talk with a voice that told me she knew before I got to tell her. Hearing Jenn cry next to me in bed, holding my belly and sobbing.

It really is the sounds that haunt me. The nightmares have gone away for the most part. But I don't believe the haunting sounds will ever leave.

Tomorrow we will have a cake. Actually we will have two. One to celebrate Blue's first birthday. One to celebrate our 6th anniversary. Six years ago as I walked down the aisle to meet Jenn, the mother of our future children, I had no idea that five years later we would be mourning the death of our child.

We hurt so much. The letter will probably never be sent. I've never even let Jenn read the contents. I think I've written it more for me. I think that at some point I will print it out and burn it.

Maybe I'll save those ashes. At least we will always have Blue in our hearts.