seven days

This time last year my baby was still alive and each kick I felt was breaking fragments of my heart away, knowing that any one of them might be the last.

Sometimes I am left stock-still by the shock of it all.  I went into the hospital to give birth knowing that my son would die and I would be going home without him.  Yet I still went!  How did I not run the other way, screw my health, and just take off running in the other direction? How is it even possible that it all happened?  How does anyone go to the hospital very pregnant and leave with an empty belly and no baby?

Now I have an urn and three terrible quality photographs for that horrible experience.

I'm feeling very alone these days.  I love my family and friends and am especially appreciative of the ones who have been reaching out recently to see if I'm ok -I'm not really- but I want someone who knows how I am because they've been where I am.  But there is no one I know in my every day life.

I want to take the next week off of work, close my eyes and try to remember every moment of that last week.  As hard as it was, I still had him with me and I would rather it be hard like it was then, than hard like it is now.