After we lost our son, Asher, the conversation quickly changed from "how are you doing?" to "when are you going to have another child?" This change in topics was quick, sudden and happened far sooner than I expected. However innocent the questions were, the one of when we would have more children infuriated me to no end. I would always leave the conversation feeling like if Asher were around they would not have the audacity to ask me such questions. I left the conversation feeling sad, hurt and with the realization that one of the most important people in my life meant very little to anyone else around me. With time I discovered, other people were eager for me to be pregnant again so they could feel more comfortable about our situation. No one likes to think about infant death, let alone talk about it. If people allowed themselves to talk about it, it was almost as if they were admitting it could happen to them too. 

Moments after loosing our son my husband and I embraced. In a rare moment of strength I  assured him everything was going to be okay, that we were going to be okay. Admittedly, deep down I was worried, we were entering the unknown. The only thing I knew for sure in that moment was of our love and that it could withstand the greatest heartache. I remember seeing the pain in his eyes and how I wanted to make it all go away.  In the coming weeks and months our roles reversed. Often I would burst into tears and repeatedly say "All I want is our son back. I miss him so much it hurts." He would loving say, "I know, so do" and he would hold me all the tighter.