I debated on not posting today – I haven’t posted about Oliver for a couple of birthdays now.  I don’t feel like I need a post each year, but as I thought about it all day long, I realized that I want people to remember that Oliver did exist.

We are teaching Waylan, his brother, who Oliver is and he is always pointing at the angels on Oliver’s special shelf. It’s hard to believe that he would be 10 years old today, when each day I replay the exact moments out that occured. 

Nothing prepares you to find out your baby doesn’t have a heartbeat.

Not the books.
Not the apps.
Not the doctor visits.
One moment you’re planning your baby’s future, The next, you’re staring at a screen, praying for movement that never comes.
The silence is deafening.
The stillness is unbearable.

And the pain?
It’s a kind that words can’t touch.
You don’t just lose a pregnancy.
You lose a child you already loved.

A name.
A dream.
A piece of yourself.
And somehow, the world expects you to keep going… like you didn’t just break.

Over the years we have learned to live with the grief and have realized that it is part of our story and we are glad we have pictures of him and that we also get to help other families each year.