Gone

Saturday was a nice day, it started out so normal.  We went to the park, went to the grandparents house, ran a few errands, listened to music and had cinnamon rolls for breakfast.  Driving home my brain kicked into it's favorite run-away mode.  Except this time it didn't go thru all the normal things.  There was no battle of information, no replaying of scenes, no convincing or trying to wrap my mind around it.  Loud and clear it rang thru my head....

MY BABY IS GONE.

That was all.  That was all that was there.  Loud and clear.  Flashing lights thru the fog.
It left as quick as it came and the tears started.  It was brutally painful.  For that briefest of moments there was no fleeting thought that he was still here, or coming back, or that this was all a dream.  For that brief moment, it was real.  It was so very true and real.   There was no hint of anything more.

It was brutal and cold and painful.  It is my reality.  I know this but the blur and fog and numbness has been so strong that sometimes I could almost pretend that all I was doing was breathing and nothing else existed.

I don't know what is to come.  But I know that at 26 weeks and 6 days since I lost my baby that my body and mind and soul are trying to pull out of the fog and wrap around the concept that my baby is gone.

I'm not sure if I'm ready for this.  Not that I feel that I can ever be ready for this reality.  But the numbness and fog definitely has it's positives.

Where will I be a minute from now, and hr from now, a week from now, a month from now,  a year from now, or a lifetime from now?  I have no idea, and quite honestly I don't want to know.  The pain of child loss is so intense I simply can't think that far ahead.  I know where I am RIGHT NOW and that's all that I can handle.

Please hang in there with us.  Please remember that it's not something that we will get over.  There is NO cure.  We won't just move on.  This is our baby.  We are grieving and we will always be grieving.  Please always remember that we are still so very early in this process, in this new life without a piece of our family, our life, our identity.

We are trying.  We are doing the best we can at the moment that we can do it.  We can't slow down the process, rush the process, pause it, hide it, or control it.  Child loss rules and we go with the flow, ebbing, and ducking and swerving and holding on for dear life.

Please help us hold on too.