Today was one of those days.  It’s not that it’s totally unexpected.  It’s just that you can be doing the same thing, having the same thoughts and in the same sort of situation that you face all the time and have learned to handle easily, but somehow one little thing will happen and tear every defense you have down.  And it happens in a split second.  You see, I am doing okay.  Most all of the time I can hold it together.  By now, I can even shop for my presents for my friends who are having girls.  I have gotten to the point where I can be excited for them.  I remember not that long ago that I too was shopping for pink outfits and bows and little shoes… and I can do it again while remembering the happiness of expecting my daughter and not just the pain of losing her.  But today it was a number that punched me right in the gut.  All I was doing was taking Lewis into the bathroom to change him and there was a young mother changing her tiny little sleeping newborn.  She was beautiful and I couldn't help but admire her as I held my own baby who looked so huge in comparison.  The other women in the bathroom were admiring the baby too and taking turns asking questions as the mom was struggling with all the clothes and accessories that come with a newborn.  Whats her name?  How old is she?  She is so tiny!  How much does she weigh?  Mom dutifully answered all the questions.  “Ella”  “Two weeks”  “6 pounds, but when she was born she weighed 5 pounds and 3 ounces because she was 5 weeks early” she said as she finished putting her things in her bag and cradled her little baby to her shoulder.

I looked at the little baby peeking at me through sleepy eyes over moms shoulder.  “She is beautiful” I said, already feeling the tears stinging my eyes.  All I could hear was that weight “5 pounds 3 ounces” ringing in my ears.  My daughter was 5 weeks early.  She weighed 5 pounds 3 ounces.  I have spent so many months… nearly years now, consciously pushing the “what ifs” out of my mind.  I've trained myself to never, never even start with the thought….but here it was.  The “what if”… What if the ultrasound had seen the cord around her neck?  Remember when I said I just didn't feel right.  What if somehow I’d noticed before?  What if something, anything could have been done?  All those “what if’s” were peering at me with those sweet little sleepy new born eyes and all I could do was lay Lewis on the table, cover my eyes and cry.