I am now the mother of a child I can't even hold.

I'm not ever going to be the person I was before December 10, 2007.

I am now the mother of a child I can't even hold.

I find the first comment rather sad as I, rather liked the person I was before that day.

I was rounding out (belly and all), I used to be a dreamer, I had gotten over what I considered major hurtles.

Now, my major hurtle includes getting out of bed, trying to smile, trying to move as I call it sideways.

I am now depressed (situational of course!), I cry a lot, I cannot relate to others, even my childless friends.

I am now the mother of a child I can't even hold.

I used to be highly optimistic and now I find pessimism, something I despise setting in.

I can't even have 2 beers (which yes, I can have them now!) without getting sad and saying things I do not mean.

I can't look at car seat carriers or little boys with their parents, or babies at all.

I am now the mother of a child I can't even hold.

I find myself covering my eyes and ears when someone says, "She has gone back to school to get her GED, she's 18, and she is pregnant, she doesn't even talk to the dad."

I cannot be happy for those that don't want children and yet have them. I am jealous and wonder why this happened to us.

I hear a song and have to shut off the radio, every song I hear no matter how happy deals with loss in my ears.

I am now the mother of a child I can't even hold.

I want so bad to hold my son, to tell him that I love him to his sweet little face. I want to hear him say, Mama and Dada.

I want so bad for the fear to go away, the fear that I will never find "normal" again. The fear that I cannot smile without it feeling fake.

I want so bad, to go back to December 9, 2007. When I was blissfully ignorant. When I thought nothing bad would happen to us.

I want so bad to smile, laugh, and make comments on how we would reprimand Will.

Instead....

I am now the mother of a child I can't even hold.