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Today was my first day back to work.  A week from the day we heard the news.  I made it until 2pm and then excused myself to go. My body was aching and I was mentally exhausted.  I gave it a good go.  I gathered the wine bottles people had dropped at my desk, the flowers and the cards and shoved them in my truck.  I sat for a moment in the silence of my truck, letting the heat roll over me, thinking how exhausting that was.  I was ready to crawl in my bed.

Instead I came home, poured a healthy glass of wine and went to my back deck.  It is an unusually warm September day, not a cloud in the sky.  This is a day I would have normally loved to come home and taken Fenway for a long walk, followed with yoga.  Instead, I can’t leave the deck, I take large sips of the wine and watch the butterflies dance in the yard.

This should have been the last day of my first trimester, a day to be celebrated.

I took another sip.

Fucking butterflies.

I have never been a butterfly person.  Sure, I notice them but they weren’t my thing like starfish have been.  Until I was pregnant.

The day I found out I was pregnant, I sat out back and an orange butterfly landed on my leg.  It refused to move and slowly moved its wings back and forth tickling my leg.  It was strange.  The next day it was a huge yellow butterfly on our garage….and it went from there.  Every walk I took with the dog we were surrounded.  Fenway would chase them in the yard or they would hang on us as we did yard work.  They would even hitch rides on Fenway into the house.  I swear they were never around like this until I was pregnant.

We took notice and started calling this our butterfly baby.  I fully believe in signs, as does my husband, and it seemed this baby liked butterflies.

Now it just seems our butterfly baby is gone and our yard is even more full of the creatures of all colors. Even at my Mom’s this past weekend, they followed us and everyone noticed, they commented, look at all the butterflies, isn’t it strange?

I originally sat on my back deck to read a book this afternoon, with my wine, but instead a caterpillar has landed on said book and the butterflies are on parade.  I can’t quit staring at them.

I feel empty.

How do you explain this to someone?

How do you put it into words?

How do you explain about a baby you never met, yet knew so well?

How do you explain what this does to your family, your friends, your spouse?

How do you explain the fear of the leaves falling, the snow coming, and all the butterflies going away?