Thank you for visiting my blog! If you are visiting because you have experienced a pregnancy or infant loss, let me say that I am so very sorry. I started this blog shortly after our Baby Grady was stillborn on November 12, 2008. Please visit the sidebar below called "Labels" to find the topic in which you are interested, or just read as your heart desires.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Missing My Boy......

This is not what I planned to write in today's post, but its where my heart is this morning, so I'm going to share. Honestly, as always...

I am missing my sweet Grady with every ounce of my being. I have good days, and I have bad days. The good days are, fortunately, starting to outnumber the bad ones. But even on the good days, as I try to make the best of my days and time with my family, a part of me is missing. Empty. It's very hard to describe, but a piece of my heart feels constantly squeezed with sadness. Not crushing or suffocating like it did in the beginning, but it's always there.

A constant reminder of what I don't have...

I haven't been able to cry for Grady in a long time. I cried a little at his service the end of January, but even then, not too many tears came. For me, at that time, it was something positive to honor him. Even though there was some finality in saying 'goodbye', it felt so good to do something for him.

I'm not sure what it was about last night, but the tears came in a flood. I'm thankful, but it has carried into today. Which doesn't surprise me at all.

As I went to bed, I was hugging his blue blanket (just like any other night), and the flood gates opened. I was sad, mad, frustrated and so confused.

I was sad because he wasn't here.

I was mad because I was holding a blanket instead of him.

I was frustrated because I did everything possible to keep him safe in my womb, but it didn't work, it wasn't enough.

I was confused as to why I wasn't allowed to keep him here with me. Instead I had to give him back to his maker, and in doing that, give up all hopes and dreams I had for him as part of our family.

His room is still the way it was the day he died. When I check on the girls before I go to bed and when I check on the girls in the middle of the night, I pass his room. The thought always comes that "I should have a baby in that room to check on, too". Some would say that I should take the room down. However, it will always be Grady's room, even if it is a room with another purpose.

I'm not ready to put his things away yet...

I feel at times that very well-meaning people try to minimize my grief for him. "Well, at least you still have two beautiful children". And THANK GOD for my two beautiful children. They are what helped pull me through those first very dark weeks after Grady died. They were my reason for literally pulling myself out of bed every day.

But what people need to understand, is that even though Grady was a baby who didn't live outside my womb, he was his own person. He lived vibrantly inside of me. Did I mention that he was his own person? The girls cannot take his place, just like Grady could never take their place.

My grief is for him. For what he meant to me. For what he represented in our family. For what we don't get to experience with him. For my little boy who became an angel before I got to play with him.

My grief is for Emma Grace, who so badly wanted to be a big sister to a real live baby.

My grief is for Jessica, who wanted to help play mommy with me.

My grief is for Gib that he doesn't have a little football player to coach.

My grief is that a member of our family will forever be missing......

Thanks for listening to my heart today.



  1. Thank you for sharing your heart in this post. With all of our quickie emails this week, I was really wondering how your heart was doing. I know your grief is very real. May God bring comfort to your heart as you miss Grady.

  2. I'm so sorry for your painful longing for your son. Of course you'll have that longing forever - until you're with him in heaven, but the pain will subside and life will be full and rewarding again.

    I just want you to know that I'm going to pray for you tonight as I get into bed.


  3. I hope that being able to release some of your pain through your tears helps you through the toughest days. I love you!

  4. Tonya,

    I am praying that God gives you comfort. I don't know what it is like to lose a child, but I do understand what you mean about never being able to replace him because he is his own person. I feel the same about my Mom who passed away....I can have a million friends, but they will never take the place of her, my one true friend. I hope that things will become easier for you as time passes. I will definitely be praying for you.


  5. Hi Tonya,

    Well said. I feel this exact same way about my babies I recently lost.

    I hope today is a good day for you.


  6. I found your blog from another blogger's link and I just wanted to thank you for sharing. My son Bear was stillborn at 39 weeks about 7 weeks ago. I really appreciate the hopefulness in hearing the stories of others who have felt this unbelievable grief.