Friday, January 22, 2010

One year ago

One year ago I woke up on this very same day - as I do each day. Except one year ago I woke up having to perform the hardest task any mom or dad should be asked to do. I woke up to bury my son. You would think the hardest thing to do would have been the birthing process, but in reality how can that be hard? We were still in awe of seeing our child for the very first time; ready to hold our son and see the little boy we were anxiously anticipating the arrival of. So no, the birth was not the hard part.

It was a cold day. The day before John and I went shopping because I needed something to wear. I refused to wear black. I could not find anything - specifically winter white pants. That day I ran into a sorority sister and it was all she could do not to break down as she gave me a hug. We left the mall and the 100's of other stores and finally went home. I settled on light gray pants and a medium blue sweater - and a winter white coat. All arrangements had been made and all we had to do was show up.

John and I were there first and the site of that little baby blue casket...it was pure heartache. It was a very private ceremony with family and few friends - I personally cannot deal with public emotions of that nature. We sat and listened as Lyle spoke we listened as Deidre sang with her amazingly beautiful voice. It wasn't until days weeks and months later we found out about miscarriages and pregnancies that were active that very same day. What a strange moment it must have been for all in those situations.

It has been a year. It has only been a year. It seems so much shorter because it has all passed by in such a blur. One would think that I would be okay, that I would be over it and that I have moved on. That is so far from the truth. One would think that because I am expecting our second child I would be able to transfer my grief into happiness. Sometimes being pregnant, especially at the anniversary dates, makes it harder. I sit and watch as friends and families have healthy babies - making their families complete. That is something I will never have - a complete family. I will never have all of my children gathered in my bed for cuddle time or take a complete family picture. There will always be someone missing. How is that something you get over?

6 comments:

Dana said...

Praying for you today

(((Hugs)))

croleyc69 said...

Praying for you today and always.
Caroline {{HUGS}}

Paige said...

I still can't buy anything gingham- Tatums casket was pink gingham fabric. We won't ever "get over it"- but i promise this new baby will bring you so much joy!

Shannon said...

(((((hugs)))))

I know people keep talking about how eventually you get over it. But I have found those tend to be the people who have never been through it. How can you ever get over missing someone you love very much? You just don't.

You never get over it, you just learn to live with it. And someday you WILL have a complete family, even though it won't be here on earth. I think that knowledge is the only thing that keeps me going some days. That while my family here is not complete, someday (SOON!!) my family WILL BE complete, and every child that is missing from my earthly life right now will be a part of my Life in Eternity...along with my earthly children. We will all be together.

Holly said...

I agree, giving birth was not hard. Burying your child is hard. One day our families will be complete and that will be a glorious day. (((hug))

Cecilia said...

I completely agree. Seeing that tiny casket was a startling moment for me because there was no way to deny he was gone.
I think that's what makes me look forward to Heaven more, because I know that Ethan will always been missing here.

 
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