I don't like waking up on this particular day. I almost want to just skip the day and not face it. I don't like it because I know there's a version of me that's waking up to this particular morning in 2010 still innocent and full of hope and excitement that our first child is on their way. That version of me doesn't know that this would be the last day. That in the hours that lead into the night, that Tia, our first, would die during those long hours of labour. This day, the 30th, is the mome...
