When the doctor first calculated your due date last year in June, January 30th seemed so far away. I couldn't imagine having to wait so many months to meet you. I was ecstatic to finally be pregnant after all the troubles your daddy and I had endured, and I felt so in awe...so grateful...so joyful at the knowledge that I was going to be a mommy at last.

I loved you so much...from that very first day. I look back at the journal entries I wrote to you during that first trimester of my pregnancy, and I am transported back to the overwhelming feeling of pride...of absolute wonder...of anticipation for your arrival. At the same time, my heart breaks all over again, as I think about how long it'll be until I meet you. Now, nine short months doesn't seem so long to wait.

LJ, we hadn't yet learned if you--our precious first child--were a boy or a girl, but I have always thought of you as my little girl. I would talk to you, while caressing my swelling belly, and picture what you would look like...the wispy sandy-blond hair, the chubby red cheeks, the clear blue eyes...

After we found out we'd lost you, it was the hardest thing in the world waiting for you to leave me...knowing that you leaving was indeed inevitable. That first night I laid in bed with my hands on my belly, knowing that you were still there, lifeless, inside me. I felt so ashamed, wavering back and forth between whether I wanted, selfishly, to keep you that way forever, or have you ripped from my womb quickly--like a band-aid--to lessen the pain.

Little by little, you and I said good-bye, which allowed me to fully immerse myself in all the sorrow and rage that had left me feeling like a hollow shell of the person I once was. Losing you that way was the hardest thing I've ever done. I found myself cursing my doctor's careful recommendation to "do this naturally," wishing for that D&C that is so typically ordered by doctors--the more humane option, really, for women going through such a loss--to help lessen the intensity of both the physical and emotional pain.

It's hard for me to admit this to you, LJ, that once I knew your spirit was no longer with me, I just wanted your broken, tiny body to be gone--as well as all physical reminders that you had once been there. On some days, I wanted to forget you'd ever existed. I'm so sorry for those feelings, sweetie. I know now that they stemmed only from being unable to fully process my grief at having lost you. It hurt so bad, already loving you so much, wanting you so much, then losing you almost as quickly as you had been gifted to us. I was so angry...so confused...so completely and utterly devastated.

Now, today, you were due to come meet us for the first time. Nine months later. The past few weeks have been difficult for me, LJ, as other mothers who became pregnant around the same time as me have just recently delivered their beautiful, healthy children. How I long to join them. How jealous I am of them, in my dark moments of weakness.

Some mornings I will wake up, hoping for one brief, fuzzy instant that all of this has been just a horrible nightmare, and that I'll look down and see you're still there--a comforting protrusion proving you're still alive deep inside me.

LJ, not a day goes by that I don't think of you. I want you to know that I am thinking about you even more than usual today, thanking God for giving you to us, if only for those few short months. I will always be grateful that you were a part of our lives. My love for you will never lessen. I want you to know that, ok? You will always be my first child. You will always, in my mind, be my little girl. I will always remember those first talks, those first words I wrote to you. I hope that you will, too.

And, finally, I know that even though you're not here with me today--on what might've been your birthday--you are not alone. Grandma Bea and the daughter she lost, Lorraine, are taking care of you until I can come join you. If you can't be here with me on this special day, precious LJ, there is no other place I'd rather you be.

Love Always,

Mama

Several days ago, I received my print copies of Better Software magazine with my article in it:

A few of you have expressed interest in reading it. Let me know if you do want to read it (and believe me, I will not be at all offended if you don't...it isn't everyone's cup of tea ), and I can scan in the pages and e-mail it to you (unless you're Mom and Dad...in which case you will probably be receiving your very own copy via snail-mail some time...lucky you, eh? ).

I am also in the process of writing a pitch for another magazine article for a different publication. I'm sure there is a lot of rejection in my future as I continue to try to ramp up more freelance writing on the side, but I am enjoying the fact that I've been bit by the writing bug as of late. I just hope I can keep up the momentum!

-Em

This year, I've been trying something different. This year, I have made a conscious decision to choose my attitude. And, what I've decided is that...I choose happiness.

I have never been much for New Year's Resolutions...something about setting yourself up for self-defeat, then having to wade through the self-defeating inner-loathing that comes from not accomplishing any of those goals you set out for yourself. I'm tired of being so hard on myself, and I'm tired of feeling guilty for not quite being the person I'd like to be (or that others think I should be).

This year, my only real goal is to give myself a chance at happiness. Happiness, it turns out, doesn't necessarily come from all of a sudden having those things (I don't just mean material things) in life you so desperately want. Happiness comes from living a life of gratitude every. day. Happiness comes from surrounding yourself with the people and things (again, things has a broader definition) you love. Happiness comes from spending less time beating yourself up about what you didn't accomplish, what you struggle with, what is out of your control. Happiness comes from taking a little bit of time for yourself every day to take care of yourself physically and ponder these things, which keep us "in tune" mentally and emotionally...what you're grateful for, affirmations to yourself about what it is you want out of life, and praying for strength to continue on in this way.

I'm not going to be so naive as to say that I'm a new person all of a sudden, more optimistic than pessimistic...able to shrug off hardships, sweep them under the rug, then go dance a little jig.

But I am trying. I'm learning that happiness is not something that I'll all of a sudden achieve when the stars align, the gods smile, and I am deemed "worthy" to be granted my heart's desires.

Happiness is something I have to try at a little each day.

-Em

What started off as the master's thesis for my master's degree at RPI became the feature article that is now published in the January/February issue of Better Software magazine. I will be receiving hard-copy issues of the magazine soon, to be able to share the article with anyone interested. For now, here is the excerpt from the Table of Contents with me and my co-author and former co-worker, Jennifer (last names omitted; it is the second feature article with the "New and Improved" title below).

Here is the summary they included for the article on their web site: "When these information architects were assigned to a team that was struggling to achieve CMMI Level 2, they found little user buy-in for the new processes. Find out how introducing user-centered design to the project got everyone involved in the design process and increased the users’ satisfaction in the end product."

We pitched the article to the magazine last May, working through different drafts of the feature with various editors at Better Software (who were awesome, BTW). It will be exciting to see the final product, in print, in the magazine itself!

Happy New Year!

-Em