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.