
You are missed, baby boy.
A blog about our life, our adventures in pregnancy, and the aftermath of a baby lost.
A friend sent me a piece from last Sunday's New York Times written by Ann Hood. I read Hood's memoir "Comfort" this past June. Inhaled it, actually, while sitting on a bench in Central Park, tears streaming down my cheeks. If you haven't read it, and have experienced the loss of a child, I highly recommend it.
She ends her NYT piece with the below words, which simply took my breath away.
"What I do know is this: there is no safe route through parenthood, or through life. When we offer our heart to others, we do not know what will happen to it. It may break. It may grow. It may take us places we never imagined. But isn’t that the risk of love? To be willing to stand on the stern on a beautiful summer day and, not knowing the outcome, to leap?"
It's Cayden in my belly in the above photo, his little brother is below.
? On 9/21, Buggy's weight was estimated at 1 pound 8 ounces (23 weeks 4 days)
? On 9/28, Buggy's weight was estimated at 1 pound 10 ounces (24 weeks 4 days)
? Tomorrow I will be 27 weeks 6 days


Look who came for dinner! 

Another few uneventful days. I recently read that every day I remain pregnant means two fewer days Buggy will spend in the NICU. For anyone who has been a NICU parent, that's great motivation to be a compliant bedrested mama!
Right now it's Sukkot, the Jewish festival holiday when Jews traditionally visited the Temple in Jerusalem. Sukkot is the plural of the Hebrew word sukkah, meaning booth or hut. The sukkah represents the temporary dwellings in which the ancient Israelites dwelt during their 40 years of wandering in the desert after the Exodus from Egypt. Many Jews will build a sukkah in their backyards during Sukkot and spend time and eating meals there. It's decorated with leafy branches across the open roof, on which you hang fruit. Inside, there is typically a table with a lulav (bundle of specific branches) and an etrog (a yellow citron). Clearly building a sukkah is not an option for us, since we a) live in an urban condo with no backyard, and b) I currently live in a hospital room.
PS-The pictures DO NOT do it justice.

