There should've been three...

I can't seem to let go of that feeling. It seems like there's always some reminder that some one's missing. It's the silliest things. Like filling out a form that asks how many children you have. I always hesitate, I desperately want to check off 3, but I don't. It's looking at the two car seats and wondering why there isn't a third. Going to restaurant and asking for a table for 4 rather than 5. Or that my survivor has taken an interest in toy cars and trucks. Most parents of daughters probably wouldn't even give it a second thought, but it makes me so sad. All I can think about is how she should be playing trucks with her twin brother. Whenever she shows an interest in something that is typically a boy toy or activity my heart feels so heavy. I used to occasionally buy my older daughter boy pajamas if they were on clearance, because what's the difference right, but I can't bear to put them on my survivor.

Why do people need to ask how many children I have. I never know how to answer and any answer I choose hurts. It makes me want to scream. I want to go up to strangers at the store and say, please think for a moment before you ask someone how many children they have. You just never know what someone has been through and the pain that question might bring them. The question that hurts the most is when people look at my beautiful daughters and say (without thinking I'm sure), "Oh, just the two girls." That one stabs me in the heart. Most days I just nod and say yes. Other days I might say I have a son too and keep going on my way before the follow-up questions start. Every once in awhile I might tell my story. But, no matter what, it still hurts.