The mornings are the hardest. I wake from a full nights sleep and see his beautiful little face staring back at me from a photo on the dresser. I look over to my right and a chair is where the bassinet was. My cat Chumby comes and snuggles with me every morning. Friends and family are a constant here. The thing is, I had all these visions of what life was going to be like once we had this baby. I figured we wouldn’t be getting much sleep, we’d be snuggling with our baby every morning, Chumby was supposed to be really jealous and pissed off that it wasn’t her there, I would lay in bed recovering while I was breastfeeding my little angel, I would take walks with the baby snuggled tightly to my body all wrapped up around me, we would be celebrating our new little family just us for awhile. So many plans that will go unfulfilled.

My sister was here this week and she helped me to re-organize my closets. I needed this to happen, to take out all my fall and winter pre-pregnancy clothes, put away some summer maternity clothes, and refill the space that used to have baby stuff on it but now was empty. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. That’s all I keep thinking. As I put my old life back together, it just seems so wrong. During what they call in pregnancy- the nesting phase- those last few weeks where you re-organize and get the house ready for baby, we arranged and re-arranged so things were just so. We figured that was what we’d be doing for the first few months while we got to know our baby. To put it all back to the way it was, just seems so wrong.  I keep saying, this isn’t how its supposed to be.

The flowers, the fruit, the cards, all were supposed to be to congratulate us on our new baby. Instead they are all offerings of condolence. The phone calls are supposed to be filled with excitement not sorrow. As each day passes, I think, ok, maybe this day will be easier. I go back and forth from feeling like I need someone near me, consoling me, rubbing my feet, to just wanting everyone to go away and be left alone to cry. Each day has brought about new emotions, the lows sometimes are even lower, but we’re also still finding the time for laughter.

We are so fortunate to have so many people who care about us. The love being shown to us right now is really the only thing keeping us going. This morning I wanted to just give up, I told Chris that nothing matters to me right now. I don’t care about anything. After giving it some thought, we both realized that we can’t give up, even though right now we feel like we are hopeless, we need to also feel hopeful. Maybe not now, while we are in the deepest, darkest moments of our grief. But we need to find it, to fill up the spaces in our apt with that hope that it will be the way we planned, someday.