Tuesday, September 16, 2014


Tonight I feel empty. It's two days before Barrett's due date and he currently consumes most of my thoughts. I so desperately long to hold him again. Several times today I have caught myself just staring as I revisited the day he was born. I imagine that I have the opportunity to hold him again. I imagine that I am able to rock him once more and sing to him like I did so often with Audrey.

Earlier I was changing clothes after church and my mind wandered to the clothes we had bought for him just three days before we found out he died. I had spent that Sunday afternoon buying lots of blue for a house filled with pink. The night before Barrett was born, my one request for my mother was to please get his things out of the house. I knew if I walked in the house and saw them, I would probably collapse into my grief. I longed for those days I had looked forward to of dressing him up in his football outfit and watching his daddy holding him with pride.

Today everything seemed to remind me of him. Sometimes I smiled, and sometimes I cried. I knew that Tuesday was going to be hard, but I had no idea it would be his hard. I had no idea that the days leading up to it would be just as hard. I feel so empty without him, almost lost.

The new baby has given me a reason to not just crawl into myself and lose it, but I have to admit I'm fighting that hard. A huge part of me wants to spend the week curled up in a ball just crying and grieving for my son--for the piece of my heart that will always be missing.

I am cautiously excited about Baby C, but I will never feel complete. It is impossible to feel complete when such a huge part of me is somewhere else. There are still days I find myself asking "Why?" though I know I will never get a satisfiable answer to that. I know I just have to trust in Him and His perfect plan.

Tuesday morning happens to be the day I go to the neurologist about my seizures. I'm hoping that will distract me for the morning, but I'm not counting on it. I know that visiting him will be the only thing I can think of. I never knew I could miss someone so much. I think of him and its like a rush of emotions. I feel happy that he was my son, grateful for the time I had with him, sadness for all the things I didn't get to do with him--I feel overwhelming grief. I've spent a lot of energy trying to choke it back. I don't like to cry in front of people at all. I'm trying to stay focused on the future, which for me will always include Barrett.

1 comment:

  1. I so understand the incompleteness. It will never matter how many children I have here. We will never be whole.


I love hearing from you :)