Today is an anniversary for me, but not a happy one. This day one year ago, I was given the news that my little baby was a boy, but would most likely not make it. Even now I can remember the shock, the devastation I felt at hearing those words. Never in my worst nightmares could I have imagined something like this happening to me. I am relatively healthy, I was following all the rules - how could my baby be dying? And why me? Why did we lose our little boy when there are abusers and drug addicts popping out babies who will never get the love and attention we would have given to Liam? So many questions, and no answers. Now here I am, one year later, still missing my baby. Thinking about how old he would be now - wondering, would he be babbling yet? Trying to crawl? And always asking - will this happen again? Now we are talking about trying again this summer. I'm a little nervous, but very excited. I definately will not be able to go through this next pregnancy with the innocence I had at the beginning of my first one. I will be much more anxious, constantly worrying that something will go wrong. But go forward we will - we both want children, so we'll pray and try again.