You, my love, are gone.

As I lay back on the table staring blankly into that screen it all hit me at once. There was my womb. The womb that just two weeks ago held my Cora. She was not there. Cora is gone. That sweet little baby that tried so hard to suck those fingers.

The past few weeks have been so much harder than I could ever imagine. The up and down. The happy and sad. Sometimes it is all just too much. Just too real.

Monday I had my D&C. I was so relieved for it to all be over. For that damn blood to be gone. Ben and I went to the office that morning for my pre-surgy appointment. They did another sonogram but this time I could not bear to look at the screen. I know it is insane but for some reason just seeing that machine gives me some small hope that she is still in there. That the screen will show my little Cora wiggling away and trying so hard to get those tiny fingers to her mouth. That screen does not show my Cora anymore; just my empty womb.

The surgens all kept talking about how "chill" I was. That I was doing such a great job and that they had never had a mother so calm as I was. Thats right, I am a mother now. My baby may not be here with me but I am a mother.

The other night at a Mexican restaurant there were two little twins running around playing together at the fountain in the middle of the patio. I could not stop watching them. They were so darn cute and happy. They were about two or three years old. The little girl spun around in circles and then lost her way as she ran toward the tables. She ran over to my table laughing and calling, "Mommy", as she looked right at me realizing that she was at the wrong table. She smiled at me and then ran off toward her brother. I smiled and thought to myself, "Yeah, I am a mommy."

Mommy just misses you so much, little peanut.