I wrote the following in my journal on September 19, 2008
I was never happier than when I was pregnant with you. I have never been so sad as I am now that you died. You were my entire purpose. Now life has no purpose. Except missing you.
Although I wrote this before finding it, this echoes the words in one of my now favorite books, Elizabeth McCracken's An Exact Replica of a Figment of my Imagination, where she writes: "This is the happiest story in the world, with the saddest ending." The book chronicles McCracken's first pregnancy which resulted in the stillbirth of her first son, and her subsequent pregnancy resulting in her living son. I'd like to pass this book out to everyone so you know how I'm feeling. Instead I'll just include the link to it on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Exact-Replica-Figment-My-Imagination/dp/0316027677/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1224880252&sr=8-1
the Stirrup Queen's Completely Anal List of Blogs That Proves That She Really Missed Her Calling as a Personal Organizer
I’ve Never Thought About It
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