You were no longer there today.
There is this odd sense of comfort, of relief, that you were gone. That your tissue, your blood, your tiny bones and your heart have become apart of me again. That my body knew by taking you back that it would save you, save me and save your sibling.
Somehow I think that if I had lost you like the last one – my body ejecting you, releasing you – I would not feel so at ease.
My heart was the slightest less broken when your image wasn’t on that ultrasound screen today. That you’ve gone back to where you came from.
Your mommy is secretly hoping that maybe you will return again to me someday.