Today would have officially been halfway through my pregnancy with you. I would have posted something totally cliche and sappy on Facebook to brag to all of my friends about how excited I am and how close we are to meeting you. And how happy I was to be halfway through this third and final pregnancy. But not now.
Now today is "one week later". A week after we learned that you have joined the ranks of heaven and it will be (hopefully yet unfortunately) years and years until we actually get the chance to meet you face to face. Today I try not to be too sad thinking about what was supposed to happen, but my heart still grieves.
Yet It is so hard to believe it's only been a week. It feels like a month at least since we heard those awful words that I dreaded the second the doctor started the ultrasound and I did not see you move. How can time pass so slowly?
Sometimes I am scared to death that I will never stop crying, then moments later I'm scared to death that I will, and I'm scared that not crying will mean that I will forget how much I love you. I guess deep down I know that isn't true. It can't be true. But it's probably my biggest fear. To forget. So in a weird way I want the pain, the tears, the heartache because it proves to me how real you are, how much I love you and how much I miss you.
I'm having a memory box made to put your pictures in, and other things that remind me of you. It will be one of my most cherished possessions. But in the meantime your brothers are keeping me busy and distracted and from being too overwhelmed with sadness.
I so very much wish that you would get the chance to meet them and grow up with them. Wyatt is going to be such a wonderful big brother some day. His kind heart and generous spirit needs a little sister to love and protect. One day I will get to tell him about you and about how even at such a young age he was ready to step into those big brother shoes. But for now that will have to wait. And the big brother tshirts are put away and talks about bringing baby Piper home have ceased. And it's still so sad.
And now I dread the heartache I will endure all over again in another 20 weeks. When your due date comes and goes. And we don't get to bring you home. And other people don't even remember we were supposed to being you home. And then every January from here until the day I die. As everyone else will forget. And they don't mean to. And they won't even realize it. And that breaks my heart most of all.
No comments:
Post a Comment