These are in no apparent order...
1. The Mail Samples. Companies don't get a memo when your baby dies, so they keep bombarding your email and mail with information regarding the latest in baby gear. It took about a minute before the Enfamil was out of this house. (Donated, don't worry.) And though they had no way of knowing, we won't be buying that brand again.
2. The Body. Yep, I still look pregnant. That's because I was pregnant, and then I spent the next few months sort of working out but mostly craving Oreos. Grief is hungry work.
3. The Filter. Or lack thereof, really. However, I am not (shock and awe!) the only angel-mom who speaks her mind. I just apparently speak louder than others.
4. The Fake Concern. I have heard of many emails in the last few weeks being sent to my BLM-sisters, telling them that it's time to move on. Let's stop sugar-coating this. Those people who send emails, they can't handle the grief. It's freaking them out.
5. The Memories. I try every single day to create some kind of memory of my son, because when it comes right down to it, I got 24 weeks. Total. Actual time spent with him not in-utero? Two days. So, I try to take something from all of my activities that I can hold on to...to help me remember those two days.
6. The Closet. We all have a closet, or a dresser, or even just a Rubbermaid in the attic. But that closet has gone untouched for seven months. It's full of boy clothes--useless in my house. And I could probably use the storage space. But I can't move it. I can't. I don't know what will happen, but they might have to pry my protective hands off the closet doors whenever we sell this house.
7. The Fear. Every single time I put my daughter to bed in her crib, I am insane about making sure the last thing I say before I close the door is, "I love you." Because I know what can happen. I've consoled the mothers. And while I know the statistics are now in my favor, it's a fear I'll never shake.
8. The Awareness. I know about the 1 in 4. I know that my chances don't get any better for our next pregnancy. I know, and I think about it every single day.
9. Target. Those happy, glowing pregnant women are everywhere. I about passed out when I ran into a set of twins. I don't begrudge their happiness, people. It just hurts that I'm not glowing, too.
10. Teen Mom. And yet I love it so dearly. Farrah, you delicious train wreck, let's be friends.