Due date is 25 days away and is constantly filling my brain. I know that nothing special will happen on 12/11. I also know that even if Blueberry Bean had lived, chances are really good 12/11 wouldn’t have been his birthday anyway. Most people were betting he’d be four days late and be born on my and my Dad’s birthday. Equally possible he could already be here with us now. Or he could be born on 12/8 or 12/13 or any other completely random date in the 11/27 to 12/25 time frame. Because babies don’t know when they’re “supposed” to be born, they pop out when they’re ready.
But, mine didn’t. Mine died. Mine had to be surgically extracted. I’ll never see his face, or kiss his nose. I’ll never get to count his fingers and toes.
In 25 days nothing will happen, and my world is an emptier place because of it.