I found an old diary today and there was this
entry from many years ago I had titled "the Full Weight"... if you've ever lost a baby in miscarriage you might relate. My entry from so long ago:
"I was unpacking my moving boxes in the new house when I realized what I was holding in my hands. I don’t remember the act of picking it up, but there on the front cover was a little rabbit looking back at me. My baby book. Of course it wasn’t my baby book. My daughter bought it for the little sister or little brother she thought was coming but who never made it. On their own accord, my hands opened the book and flipped the pages. So much hope was flowing out of them and wrapping me in its arms. Then the pages went blank. I put the book back in the moving box, closed it up and hid it in the closet. Maybe next time I can get rid of it."