February 14th.

Many people associate February 14th as a day for lovers. I've never been very big on Valentine's day. I don't need Hallmark to tell me what day of the year I can express my love to Joe and others. This year February 14th was a day of reflection. See, if I hadn't suffered a miscarriage, my due date would have been February 14th. I've come a long way from when I first discovered that pregnancy wasn't meant to be, but that pregnancy was when I first truly started feeling like a mom. I loved that little baby as soon as I found out we were pregnant. I know I didn't get very far in my pregnancy, but I truly believe a woman starts feeling like she is a mother from the very start of the pregnancy. I think I will always feel as if I had one more child than we have. Knowing that we are pregnant again with little R2D2 made the day easier, but even this pregnancy isn't guaranteed. It's hard being a pediatric resident and passing an L&D room of a woman delivering an intrauterine fetal demise as I walk to the room of a woman delivering a term baby. It's difficult seeing babies in the NICU and knowing exactly what a 24-week baby has ahead of them. Knowledge is scary. It makes me scared. I welcome every week of this pregnancy and try to push those thoughts to the back of my mind and try to enjoy this experience. I'm not going to lie, having already lost one baby makes it even harder.