I Almost Had You, But I Guess that Doesn't Cut It

It is December 11th.

That means in 10 short days, It will be December 21st. For many, this means nothing; For me, it means everything.

As many of you that have been long term followers on my blog, you already know this. When I was 18 and in my first apartment, I found out I was pregnant. My due date was December 21, 2011. Exactly one Year before Dooms Day.

I found out in early April of 2011 and lost my baby on May 28, 2011 at about 10 weeks along. When I was pregnant, I always told people that I was having myself a Christmas baby. When I got my memorial tattoo for my baby, I decided to get a teddy bear with blue and pink flowers (since I wasn't far enough along to find out the sex) and a Santa hat. 

So the day is approaching once again. My baby would have been two years old, now. That's so bizarre. I mean, can you imagine me with a two year old right now? I know I sure can't. I am so not stable enough for that.

Don't get me wrong, I loved my little baby, despite that fact that I didn't even quite make it out of my first trimester. It was the most exciting and bizarre 6 weeks. I got to see his little head and his little heart beat. That tiny little life made me so happy in his presence and so sad when he had to be taken away from me.

I'm happy where life has brought me since then though. I mean, I live in a sweet ass two bedroom apartment with the love of my life and I'm drinking Busch beer listening to Bowling for Soup. I never would have been here had life led me where I thought it would when I first found out I was pregnant.

Although I miss my child terribly and would never have wished to have lost him. I'm living a happy life and that's okay. I remember when I first lost him, I thought there would never be a day where I went without thinking of him or what I did wrong. I thought there would never be a day where I could just simply be happy. I'm there now. I don't stress about what I could have done better or think of my child every second of every day. My heart aches to think of him, but they say everything happens for a reason. I'm not sure the reason for me getting pregnant, but I feel as though I understand the reason for losing my child.

My child left me in hopes that I would find the right man, that someday I could be truly happy. My child left me in hopes that I would someday carry another with the man that I truly wanted to spend the rest of my life with. My child left me because he knew that despite the hurt that I would initially go through, It would leave me to a better life. The life I was meant to be in.

I will always remember Baby Cay, but he will not overtake my happiness. He wouldn't want that. 

When the 21st rolls around, I will mourn. I love my child, but my child would want me to be happy. That is what I want to be....happy.