38 weeks

On this date in 2010, I went to my last doctor's appointment with Dylan. I was 38 weeks and 1 day. It was the last time I heard his heartbeat from inside me. I wasn't dilated, he hadn't "dropped". I remember the doctor saying that it was possible he was a big baby. That freaked me out a little, but I was still looking forward to his birth. I figured we wouldn't be meeting him until after Christmas. As I left the appointment, it had snowed and frozen my windshield. My best friend Melissa was pregnant also, was at her anatomy ultrasound at the same time, and I talked to her while I defrosted my car. She was having a boy, too! I couldn't believe we were both having little boys who would grow up as friends. If only that were true...

I think of this week in history, December 13-18th, 2010, as the last week of my old self. The former Missy, who was a lot more carefree and felt that bad things really did only happen to other people- until they happened to me. The former Missy who never imagined how life-changing having my first baby would be, and how since then I've lived a "new normal". I had no idea how much love I had in me until Dylan arrived or how heart wrenching it is to let your child go.

38 weeks and 1 day. What I would give to go back in time and feel that sweet baby kick me again, rub my belly one last time, dream about what life was going to be like with him here.

And so begins the countdown to his birthday. We will be celebrating, but not like normal families do. We will get together, eat and have cake. But no one will blow out the candles. There won't be presents, noisemakers or party hats. There won't be a birthday boy sitting in a special chair having his picture taken. Instead, he'll be with us in our hearts. I will be wearing my waterproof mascara that day.