The Number 18

The number 18 represents so much in life. 18 months old, for most is a significant time, walking, talking, independant. 18 years old, same thing on a different level. For me 18 sucks, plain and simple.

On Mother's Day, May 8th. It will be 18 weeks since the fate of my son was sealed. At 18 weeks his predestined path in life started its first steps in the journey to my heartbreak. It is hard to imagine that it was 18 weeks ago, it seems like yesterday morning. I would be a bulging bundle of baby right now, only 4 weeks to go. Hard to picture myself that way.

All in all , I hope that for whatever reason he was taken from me, he is fullfilling his predestined path in the manner in which it was meant to be.


When I was 18, my path in life was heading down the road of abuse. I didn't know it then. Im guessing 18 is just a number for me. NO place for it in my life.

18th- Aunt Cathy's doomed marraige
18th- my mother diagnosed with stage 4 cancer (she survived)

Danny born- 17th, his son 19th, his daughter 16th, his wife 22nd. He's lucky, no 18th's.
My dad, June 18th- a life of drugs, and drinking too him at 42, dont know the date but Im sure it was the 18th (or meant to be)

Its very bizarre to have to much go wrong on 1 number.

Speaking of bizarre, the conversation of my losses came up the other day. 1 day before my first loss, I was at my MIL's house, 1 day before the start of my last loss, she was at my house. FATE??? We discussed how in the future I cant take any chances. It's horrible to say, but its just strange.


Vacation, just a meer 2 days away. I am more excited then words can say. I will take plenty of pictures to share!