04/08/2026
This.
There’s a version of me
that existed before I lost my baby.
She laughed easier.
She slept better.
She didn’t overthink every little thing.
She believed bad things
happened to other people.
Not her.
I miss her sometimes.
But I also know…
she wouldn’t recognize who I am now.
Because grief changes you
in ways you can’t explain.
It rewires your thoughts.
It hardens parts of you.
It softens others.
It makes you more aware
of how fragile everything really is.
And while I would give anything
to go back…
I can’t.
So I carry both versions of me.
The one I was…
and the one loss forced me to become.