The exact same Preschool event two years in a row. Fall Festival, the Preschool Feast. All the parents bring snacks and hang out with the kids for an hour. There are turkey hats, silly songs, and fancy treats galore. Last year: 38+ weeks pregnant. This year: 4 (or 5?) weeks pregnant.
Last year I sat talking with a Grandma attending the event of the year. Talking about birth, how I was eager for Riley to be born any day. How she went into labor on Thanksgiving with her son and maybe I would too! Maybe! Thanksgiving! Maybe she would be born tomorrow!
Riley died that night in my belly. That was the last time I felt her move.
I have to go again in just a few hours and this year, I am pregnant again. Super early pregnant. It hasn't been confirmed by a doctor. I go for my first ultrasound tomorrow.
I want to puke. I'm terrified.
School Teachers, please don't make us say what we are thankful for. My response to this last Thanksgiving was Riley and Hunter. I was thankful that they were healthy and happy. I didn't know she was dead. I didn't know I was being thankful for something that didn't exist anymore. I don't think I will ever be able to take part in that tradition again. I can be thankful every other day of the year, but not on Thanksgiving.
Fall Festival, please be kind to me.