Not in a million trillion years would I have anticipated sitting down to write these words. I'm still not completely sure why I'm doing it now. I suppose it just feels like something I need to do. For me, for anyone who may have already or who will in the future go through what we just have.
On Wednesday after finding out the devastating news I came home and quickly gathered up everything and anything that would remind me of the last 9 weeks and a life that was not to be. I couldn't bear to see any of it. Not then, not ever. Yet here I am writing down words that I plan to send out into a world where anyone can see. Words that my girls will surely read someday. Words that I cannot erase. I don't know why. Perhaps it's because when my mom came to town that night she asked me why everything had to be a secret. Not her nor I knew of many losses our own cousins/sisters/aunts had endured over the years. But why? Why did I not want anyone to know? Perhaps because it would make it real? But it is real. Perhaps because I would have to endure the pity in their eyes? But I feel pitiful and awful. Perhaps because if I saw them it would make me cry when they hugged me? But I'm already crying. Perhaps because it would be easier to pick up the pieces and move on if no one knew? Maybe. Maybe that's it. Just ignore it and it will go away, right?
I don't know the answers to any of this. I know that I'm more sad then I've ever been in my life. I know that my heart aches in a way I never knew possible. I know that I might cry every day for weeks or perhaps longer. But, I also know that I feel so incredibly grateful. When I went to bed last night after a long day at the hospital I prayed as I always do. I thanked God. I thanked Him for my children. I thanked Him for my amazing husband who got on the first plane home from California to be with us. I thanked Him for my parents for driving all day and night to get my mom to me as quickly as possibly. I thanked Him for the wonderful nurses and doctors that were so nice and caring. I thanked Him for my friends, with whom I can't imagine life without. The friends that have taken care of my children when I could not, the friends who left messages of love and support. The friends whose hugs were more healing then I ever thought possible. I thanked Him for the baby that though I was never to hold, would always live in my heart.
We did not tell the girls. I am thankful for that as I could not endure Sophia's loss as well as my own. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that someday I would like them to read this. To know that it's okay to talk about our sadness. It's okay to let others in and not keep secrets. I don't want them to be fearful of feeling. I can't imagine how else we would heal.
I honestly don't know how many people or if anyone reads this blog other then my parents. I don't care really. I'm doing this for my girls. For myself. For Taki. I know it will take time. That each day will bring it's own set of successes and challenges (don't they all!). But together we will become stronger. We will continue to celebrate our blessings rather than complain of our losses. We will cry so that we may see more clearly what is really important. We will look towards the windows that have been opened, not the door that has been closed.
We won't, however, ever forget you, our little baby. We will love you even if you are not here with us. Forever and ever.
2 comments:
I am so proud of you Jen and I know I speak for your future grown girls too when I say how amazing it is you can share the sadness AND the gladness in your lives with them and everyone.
Oh sweetie, I'm so so sorry for your loss. I can't even imagine the sorrow and emptiness you must feel. I know you are strong and surrounded by so many people who love you and your family. You have two beautiful and healthy children who are lucky to be part of such a loving family. As such, I know you will be okay. But take the time to grieve, and call if you want to chat or need anything at all. Love you, Nikki
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