Realness & writing when it feels right
I sat down to write this morning, but it just wasn’t the right time. I tried to write, but what I wrote felt forced, not natural. And it wasn’t good. As I sat at home this evening, shortly after reading a personal and very special note that came in the mail from my doctor, the words flooded to me. So, lesson learned, keep my journal with me at all times. Here is some PM writing and a lot of feeling, just before I turn in for the night.
Journal Entry: February 17, 2018:
It still doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t seem like I gave birth to our baby boy fifteen days ago. It doesn’t seem real that other expecting women will get to bring their babies home before I get to bring a baby home. It doesn’t seem real that instead of bringing our baby home in a car seat the day we left the hospital, we brought him home in an urn the day we left his funeral.
“BLESSED ARE THE PURE OF HEART FOR THEY SHALL SEE GOD” MATTHEW 5:8
Fifteen days ago, but it still feels like yesterday. I have passed the time with many family and friends by my side, but it doesn’t feel like it has been two whole weeks since we held our baby boy for the first and last time. Sure, I don’t cry as much and the seemingly endless sobs occur less often, but when the hurt overwhelms me it feels as real as it did fifteen days ago. It still hurts as deep as it did that day, as deep as it did when the doctor finally flipped the power switch on the ultrasound to deliver the news. The news I refused to believe until the doctor said it, but started to fear shortly after the medical assistant had asked me if I was still feeling plenty of kicks and I instinctually said yes. Then quickly began to doubt myself as I realized I couldn’t remember whether I had felt the baby kick at all in the two or three days prior, and everything spiraled downward from there.
I know several other first time expecting women and in the past fifteen days I have seen at least two pregnancy announcements on Facebook. All of these women will bring their babies home and experience motherhood before I ever get to bring a baby home. Forgive me (or don’t), but I can’t help but feel like it’s a little unfair…or maybe a lot unfair. The thought of a women who is becoming a mother after me, someday in the future giving me advice when I finally do get to bring home a newborn baby, well it already feels like salt being poured in my deep, never healing wound.
My baby is next to me every night, in an urn instead of a bassinet. Let me tell you this, if you find it “weird” or “creepy” that I sleep with an urn next to my bed – I get it, but don’t judge me or anyone else whose shoes you haven’t walked a day in. I’ve made some other decisions throughout this life altering experience that I probably once thought I would have never made. Experiencing this loss is something you can’t understand unless you’ve experienced it. I pray you never do.
There are so many “instead ofs”, “what ifs” and “nevers”. They all still seem so unreal, unfair and feel absolutely heartbreaking. I’m not sure how I have any tears left. My heart will never feel whole again.
“WITH GOD ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE” MATTHEW 19:26
But, tomorrow I will wake up and make it through another real day. I make it through the days, one moment at a time, for more than a few reasons. One reason being that I have a life partner who is patient and loving; we have many more chapters of life left to live together. We’ll never forget this chapter, all the love we have for our sweet Marshall and all that sweet Marshall taught us and gave to us – he made us a Mom and a Dad. I have so much to live for, more babies, a lot of people who love me and a lot of faith to grow in. I also have a God who loves me, who is holding my sweet baby boy until we meet again one day.