January 13, 2012.
365 days ago, we learned of your existence, Luke.
I had a shopping list that went something like this: Cereal. Toothpaste. Toothbrush refills. Pregnancy tests. We'd just bought tickets to Coachella, and I was seriously freaking out about being pregnant and going to Coachella. The things I worried about then...
Oddly, it was Friday January 13. I'm not really one to be superstitious in any way, ever, but looking back on it now, that part sort of makes me wistful. What if I'd taken that test on January 14?
The rational part of me says that's absurd. I know it's absurd. It's just another what-if question that we'll never know the answer to, but probably wouldn't have made one bit of difference in how things played out.
We couldn't believe it happened so fast--getting pregnant. We knew we were ready, but didn't expect it to be that easy or quick. We called your grandparents and aunties and uncles and told them the good news. Everyone was so excited (and probably scared for us, let's be honest).
One year ago, we had all the hopes and dreams in the world that parents have for their children. You were so small then, and we were so naive and optimistic. Oblivious to the possibility of what could happen to you.
I'm so glad I got to spend all 9 months with you, though. I miss you so much, but I'm so glad I at least got that.
And now I'll probably spend the next 9 months referencing my other blog to find memories of our short time together...when I wish we could just be making new ones.
I miss you, Luke. I wish things didn't have to be this way.
We're trying to get through. And I feel like we're doing alright. But that doesn't change my yearning to have you here. That's never going to change.