You don’t know what to expect. People surround you. For a couple of weeks. Making sure you are not going to kill yourself, refuse to get out of bed, or start rocking a baby doll like the crazy lady they heard about from a friend. You get lots of sympathy cards, clearly written and designed to be sent to console a daughter losing her father. Not the other way around. You get free baby formula in the mail. For months and months and months. And free baby magazines. And free baby coupons. You secretly envy every pregnant woman. But not without a tinge of guilt, because you know all too well that she might be one in four- expecting her rainbow child. It seems like the whole world is expecting a baby. You have baby stuff around your home. Because you never imagined you wouldn’t need it. You feel jarred. In the grocery store. At a birthday party. At the dinner table. At Christmas. Driving. The baby you never knew, but lost changes every part of your life. Every. single. part