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?
10 hours ago