Warning: This is super raw
This is more so for my own processing's sake then it is to encourage you with something awesome. It’s just a piece of grief unclothed.
Every Saturday was a celebration. A birthday week milestone that she has made it this far. Now I dread Saturday’s. It’s one week closer to “the end”.
As the days get closer, I can feel death knocking at my door. It seems like Satan’s voice gets louder and he’s just ready to steal and destroy. I feel taunted and pursued by death itself.
“Please don’t take her, please don’t take her”.
With the belly pain due to low fluid and feeling tired, I can feel my body nearing the end and all I want is one more week.
“Please don’t go into labor yet. Stay in there as long as you can.”
People have asked “are you excited to meet her?” My answer is obviously “yes”!
But it’s also companied with “when I get to say hello is also when I’m told I will say goodbye”.
Sometimes I stare at my belly and think “How the frick is this happening to me? You’re lying to me. I can feel her move. She’s alive!”
We’re getting to the end, and I’m scared out of my mind. “What’s the pain going to be like? Will I get to hold her alive in my arms, or will she pass away inside me?” Anxiety tries to open my door and blow its way into my mind. It tries to rob me of the moments I have today and force me to worry about tomorrow.
Even the door of my sleep is getting knocked on. I wake up confused and scared because now my dreams have turned into nightmares about the day she dies.
All I have to say is “BACK THE FRIG OFF SATAN! You have no license or authority to be in my space or near my baby. Jesus already defeated you, so know your place.”
Click here to read more of our blogs about stillbirth and baby loss. This blog was written by Angela Pichette. Angela is married to her husband, Brayden. Together they are parents to their daughter Lakelynn Journey.