I never imagined this day would be spent going to the cemetery

Aside from the day I found out my daughter had slipped away silently in the night, and into God's arms, today is probably the hardest. Today is her due date. The day I was expected to give birth to her. The day I was going to become a mother for the second time.

Before we lost Eliza, I had an envision for this day. It was going to be similar to the same way we had Nolan; only this time faster, because she was my second.

After I gave birth to her, then we would allow Nolan to come in an meet his baby sister for the first time. Watch as he cooed over her, and processed the fact that she was no longer inside of me. Then two days later, I would be sent home, with Eliza in my arms. From there, Austin and I would begin our sleepless nights. Instead, my life has become the exact opposite.

Instead of having sleepless nights, all I want to do is sleep. I just want to find the darkest corner of my house, and curl in the fetal position...and sleep, and cry, and sleep some more. I have no energy. Instead of that being caused by 3 hour feedings, it is caused by my deep depression from longing for Eliza.

Instead of Nolan meeting his sister for the first time today, he met her 9 weeks ago, today. Instead of that being at the hospital, it was at Ratterman's Funeral Home. Instead of him wondering how she got out of my belly, he wonders why she isn't here anymore. He probably also wonders why we visit his sister at a place with headstones, lots of grass, and geese.

Instead of giving birth to her today, I did that on April 17th, 2013.

When I found out my due date, I never imagined this day would be spent going to the cemetery.

Days like these make me never want to have anymore children again. I can't imagine bearing this pain anymore. I can't imagine experiencing the amount of anger I have, anymore.

Days like this are especially hard, because not only do they strain life, but relationships.

On the day that I found out we lost Eliza, the first thing I said to my husband when I hugged him was: "Don't let this change us." And as much as we promised each other that, something like this does change you. It does change your relationships.

Before, when Austin and I experienced trying times, one was always there to hold up the other. However, in this situation, we are both too weak to hold up ourselves; let alone the other.

It is hard to not lash out and get angry. You have so much despair and pain; and it becomes so easy to release that despair and pain on your significant other.

I remember telling him that we wouldn't let this tear us down. We would let this bring us together. However, it is so hard to do when your glue is missing--your daughter. Be that as it may, I do love my husband more than anything. I just hope that some how, some way, some day, we can not allow the thought of our daughter to bring tears to our eyes and our life; yet bring smiles.