I walk through my house and every corner reminds me of the memories I will not have of my child. I change my toddler’s diaper and wonder where we will keep a changing table that we do not need once he is potty trained. I look to next June, and the harsh reality of the baby that will not be born then hits me.

The thoughts flit through my mind. I should be thankful for the ones that I have—the ones living and breathing in my home everyday. But my longing for this one who is gone does not take away from my love for them. They also mourn for the baby we will never meet.

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