I’ve been thinking a lot the last few days about Gnomie.

I’ve sat with that sentence for a few minutes. Trying to decide if it’d be easier to do a little recap or to go read through old posts to find the most succinct one to link to.

And I couldn’t make myself do either. So I just assume that you know my story.

Saturday night, I sat on my couch with Fat Bridesmaid until 2am. Talking about life, love, and a miscarriage. It seems at the same time like a lifetime ago and still so raw both at the same time.

I don’t want to censor myself. Most importantly, I don’t want to censor myself before I even give myself a chance to think things. And I’ve been doing that.

But here’s the truth.

I miss my baby. I wonder how I’d be feeling right now. If maybe I’d be showing even a little yet. What names we would be gravitating toward. If we’d know the gender yet. What we’d be doing. But since I only had a range of how far along I was, I don’t have any specific dates to mourn. I don’t know what my due date was. When we would have met all the milestones. So I guess that’s a blessing. But I still feel lonely.

And truth #2? What I’ve really been afraid to say?

I want a baby.

Our outlook and method aren’t changing. We’re not getting any help. We’re just doing what we’ve always done. But I have hope now. Because it happened once. But I’m also full of fear. Fear that the pregnancy was the only chance we’d get. Fear that a miscarriage is the closest to being parents that we’ll ever be.

I know in my heart of hearts that being healthy helped us get pregnant. That’s the only thing that’s changed in the last 6 years.

I’ve said this before, but gaining my weight back is no way to pay tribute to our little Gnomie. I won’t do that. But I can’t do what I’m doing anymore. I can’t throw all the right words out there but continue unhealthy behaviors. I can have plans and tools and intentions, but I’m just not translating them into actions on a consistant basis. I’ve got to get my act together. For my family. For Gnomie. So that maybe other Gnomies get a chance too.

And also for me. So that I know that I’m doing my part. That I’m doing all I can. That I’m making my body the best possible home.

But how do I focus on that as motivation when it still makes me so sad?

It’s a line I’m gonna walk today. And see what happens. I’ll let you know.