It's been almost two months since my baby died, and I spent this week in San Diego, the place where it all went wrong. Of course she never got to be a baby, only a fetus, but I'd been pregnant for months when we lost her, so she was very real to me. San Diego was really just a bit player in the whole drama, the backdrop to my own personal horror
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I moved here to be with my husband, and it is here where I scatter his ashes 14 years later.
I wish I could say something to make it hurt less, but you find your life preservers as you need them, and let them float you to the surface when grief tries to pull you under.
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