A few hours ago I was in a co-workers office on a conference call. Everything was fine until I noticed a new addition to her desk - her most recent ultrasound photo. Instantly it felt like someone kicked me in my stomach. I caught myself holding my breath so I wouldn't cry. I guess I had been ignoring the fact that she is actually pregnant until now. I have to accept it and it so hard. She got pregnant the week I buried my babies. Doesn't seem fair does it?
Fifteen days after my last blog post, you know the one 10 months ago, we were supposed to have a call with our adoption agency to hit pause and take a break. After 3 failed matches we needed time to heal before jumping back in. That day, November 14, I was at work when our social worker's number popped up on my phone. I was in the middle of a work project so thought I would just call her back later. I was putting off having the call to go inactive as long as possible. Because as much as we needed to heal, my heart also broke at the thought of missing out on the baby that was meant to be ours. Less than 10 minutes later the agency number popped up, so I decided to answer and let them know we could chat later in the day. I was not expecting the words on the other end of the phone. "Ashley, we have a healthy baby boy who was born two days ago. He is ready to be discharged from the hospital, and his birth mom has chosen you to be his parents. If you want to proceed you need t
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