Maybe you would have been a day early like your sister. Maybe you’d be on time like your brother. Maybe you’d be late like your mama. But I’ll never know your story and so I’ll write it for you. June 1^st would have been my due date. You would have brought me sunshine in my saddest month.

When I got pregnant with you, sweet child, I didn’t know if I could do it. Your due date month was the same month as my mom’s birthday. It was also the same month as the day she left us. June is already hard, but now it’s even harder. June is the month I miss you and your grandmother the most.

My newsfeed fills itself with photos of precious, squishy newborns more often than not lately. Every time I get the smallest tinge of jealousy, one that I have a hard time shaking off. But it also gives me something else: it gives me hope – Hope that my rainbow baby will come.

As I spend my days peeing on sticks tracking OPKs, waking up and sticking a thermometer in my mouth to track BBT, and obsessing over charts trying to precisely determine ovulation, I also spend my days worrying. What if I experience another miscarriage? What if trying again means setting myself up for another hard loss? I don’t know if my heart can take it.

But I know I have to try. I can’t give up on completing our family just because I’m scared of heartbreak. Because then… then I might miss out on all the love, too. And I think losing you has made me appreciate that even more. I will love this next baby so much harder because I couldn’t have you.

Drew, I wish I could have shown you the world. But I’m glad that you are with my mom, giving her the snuggles she needs. She always wanted grandkids and was taken much too soon from Jude. I’m glad she has you.

Send all the rainbow baby dust our way. Wouldn’t it be bittersweet to become pregnant in June, and I’m so ready for it. <3

Happy Birthday, Angel Baby. I’ll forever be waiting to hold you in my arms. <3 your mama