I knew a hard day was bound to happen after my blissful last post. It struck fairly hard, but as I sit here...I am starting to feel a little better. About 10 minutes ago I was really struggling, but I took a deep breath...and here I am.
My sister's birthday is in two days. Last year I somehow felt more time had passed between her birthday and Declan dying...but it was only 8 days. Just a little over a week and she was texting me while I was in recovery from my c-section. She was the one who we told Declan was gone. She was the one who had to tell everyone else in my family. I didn't find out until recently that she delayed telling everyone because she was still uncertain how I was or if I was okay.
We are very much like dominoes...we stand by each other and when one get's knocked down we all fall. We all feel the pain...maybe differently...and maybe not as long...but we feel it nevertheless.
I finally have my last blanket to donate. My kids love the blankets. Emmy is always squealing with delight and cuddling them. I love blankets...always have. I lately pulled out a blanket that my grandma made for my wedding. It has never been used. I didn't dare ruin it. But I pulled it out of it's protection and cuddled under it. I don't know why...maybe I felt like I needed that connection to my grandma. I remember my dad had this amazing blue blanket. I have no idea what material it was made out of, but it was soft and cool to the touch. It was made by his grandma. We weren't allowed to ever use it, but I would sneak and snuggle it sometimes. Once when I was really sick my mom rocked me in a rocking chair and covered me with this blanket. I'll never forget that. The peace, assurance that everything would be okay, was just what I needed. Maybe that is why I pulled out the blanket from my grandma.
I have ten days left...until it's his birthday. I am nervous about my trek back to the hospital. I worry that it will all come back and hurt...but then I think of how many moms have to leave just like I did. I want them to know that they aren't alone...and that someone knows their pain and truly cares about that little life that flitted so quickly through theirs.
I had secretly hoped I would be pregnant before Declan's birthday, but that isn't likely at this point. Never before has getting pregnant been a problem for me, but now it is. I'm sure there is something I must learn in this trial upon an already devastating trial, but honestly I struggle keeping my balance each time the blow comes and the test says...Not Pregnant. How I hate those words. How much I am beginning to understand, to some small degree, the people who see those words all too often.
I know I shouldn't whine. I have three kids. I've experienced three pregnancies and three births...though the last time wasn't the way I ever wanted it to turn out. I know I'm blessed. I would just love for it to be a different outcome before I just step away from my role as a pregnant mom. But I have had some very sweet moments of understanding...though brief...I know everything will be okay. I just have to take that leap of faith and rely on my Heavenly Father. He has a plan I don't understand quite yet...and I want to be okay with that.Forgive my scattered thoughts...but I guess my thoughts are always scattered. :)