Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Preparations

Three years ago tonight, Austin and I were preparing ourselves for the unthinkable. We were preparing for the next day, for the death of our child. We had nothing nice enough to wear to tell him goodbye so we had to go to Dillard's quickly before we went to the hotel to find something respectable to wear. I remember how panicked I was in Dillard's after I found something to wear but couldn't find Austin. I called and called him and couldn't get him to answer his phone. I physically panicked because I couldn't find him. It was only a few minutes but I still freaked. I was so unstable, so scared, so dependent on him to be okay. I feel a little bit like that tonight. I think about how incredibly sad it is to have had to tell my newborn son goodbye, body still bleeding from the birth, breasts swollen with the milk I was trying to stop producing. Three years out and I'm still so terribly broken. Some days, like today, I feel like I won't ever be okay. The grief seems so physical still, like a heavy iron weight strapped to my body. Every year, during the 13 days he lived, I almost feel like he's alive again. I can walk through the days of his life and I can remember so clearly what each day was. Yesterday, three years ago, I held my baby boy for the first time. He was 11 days old. Today, three years ago, Austin held Andrew for the first time. We wouldn't hold him again until he was dying. But, the 13th day always comes and he dies. Every year, he dies on the 13th day. I grieve him all over again. My body hurts, my chests hurts, my heart breaks into a million unfixable pieces. Oh, baby, if I could do things over, I'd do a million things different. I don't know if I could have saved you, but I would have tired harder, sweet boy. I'm so sorry I couldn't. I'm so sorry I didn't spend every second of your too short life by your side. I love you, baby boy.

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