Deep Breath

I love you. I wanted you. I miss you. I still, even after 20 months miss you every second of every single day. It still hurts to think about you being gone. It still stings to hear about other babies who have died. I still wish you were here.

Things have been crazy around here lately. The weekend was completely crazy and then on Sunday night I got a phone call from a friend of mine. It was actually his dad calling me and what he said completely broke me. He told me that my friend Leif and his wife Kelli just found out that their baby had died at 30 weeks gestation . *I WAS SHATTERED* You may remember when I wrote about this a while back. Well, Kelli is the same Kelli. I found out after that day in February 2010 that Kelli's husband, Leif was the same Leif that works in my building at work. Long story short, your daddy and I have built quite the friendship with them since that time. So, when I got that phone call on Sunday night I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I spent from midnight Sunday/Monday until yesterday night at about 8 with them. Talking, crying, listening (probably not as much or as well as I should have)and even laughing some with them and their family. The worst part of the story is that even as of right now, Landon has not been born yet! Her body isn't dilating like it should. She's been having all sorts of complications and it's just been slow-going. I feel horrible for them.

Being with them has cut open the scar on my heart. I say it's a scar because in a lot of ways, I truly believe I was healed when it came to losing you. Healed, but eternally marked by what had happened.

Then I found out about Landon. Then I sat and held the hands of my friends and cried. Then I remembered what it felt like to find out your baby was dead and then to have to labor and grieve while your baby is dead inside of you. I sat and thought about how I felt. I sat and thought about when the time came to push. I thought about seeing your lifeless body after you were born. I sat and thought about those things and probably acted inappropriately at times because I told lots of silly stories about things that didn't have to do with dead babies. I laughed because laughing was easier than thinking about a dead baby. I laughed and cried and punched the steering wheel in my car. I sat in totally disbelief that this had happened......AGAIN.......to my friends. And worst of all, I sat there with them and their family, completely shocked and totally helpless. I could do nothing for them. I could not make anything better for them. I could not make Landon come alive again. I could do nothing but tell them that it was ok to scream at God. I prayed and yelled at God and asked WHY? so many times. And here I sit at work. I have friends who are still laboring in order to deliver their stillborn son, and I'm at work.

I'm feeling all sorts of guilt. I feel guilty because I felt like I had stayed too long. I feel guilty because I really wanted to hold him when he was born and my stupid feelings are hurt because they didn't ask me to stay. It's stupid. It's selfish. It makes me feel like a jerk. But I wanted to hold him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to feel him in my arms.

And maybe it's better that I won't get that opportunity. Maybe it's better that I won't have to relive holding my own dead baby in my arms. Maybe it's better, but for now it hurts. I think it hurts because I only got to hold you after you had passed away. And maybe holding Landon would have felt right. Maybe it would have helped me remember how you smelled and how you felt and how soft and perfect your skin was. Maybe it would have helped me remember what it felt like to kiss you. But apparently that's not what is meant to be. Is that God's way of protecting me? I don't know.

So for now I will sit here thinking about my friends. I don't know how long it's going to take for this new wound to heal. I can't imagine, but I know that over time it will. And then at some point in the future it will be ripped open again because that's what happens every time I hear about another baby who has died. My heart breaks all over again. And then I act like a jack@$$ and feel like I've been a little too "Sara" for people.

I don't know buddy. I don't know how to act and I sure as heck don't know how to feel even 20 months later. But just like 20 months and five days ago I will find a way to do it. I will put one foot in front of the other and take another step. Thankfully those steps are leading me to your sisters each and every day and that is a wonderful, amazing gift. I kiss them more than most parents kiss their kiddos, I'm sure of that. And when I look at them my heart hurts because I love them so much and am so happy they are here with me. I wish my heart hurt for the same reasons when I thought of you.

I love you.