It's been one week since our life turned upside down.
After a pretty horrible beginning of pregnancy I made it to full term and then my due date.
Two days later there was nothing.
No movement.
No heartbeat.
No warning.
She was gone.
For my third labor and delivery I got my first epidural.
I can't imagine that the physical pain could have been any worse than the emotional pain we were feeling, but why suffer through what you can avoid in that moment?
They offered me drugs that would make the whole day fuzzy so that I wouldn't have to know or remember what was happening.
I declined.
This was my last hours with our daughter.
I wanted to remember everything.
She was so perfect. So beautiful.
She had dark curly hair.
Her lips were blood stained.
She looked like a doll.
At 7 pounds and 5 ounces she was the smallest of our babies.
Three days later we buried her.
She was wearing the outfit I had packed to bring her home from the hospital.
Everywhere I turn I am reminded of the baby that we don't have with us:
There is an empty pack n play in the corner of our bedroom.
A fully packed diaper bag sits at the foot of our bed.
The linen closest has a shelf full of pink and coral towels and washcloths.
The sweetest little nursery sits empty.
I have a stockpile of diapers to return.
Our budget app has a line item and money set aside for newborn photos.
The list goes on and on.
The night of the graveside service my milk came in.
Emotional pain. Physical pain.
Since then I have been the perfect blend of peppermint and cabbage.
Hopefully I only have a few more days until it dries up.
Anyone who has had a baby knows what it's like in the weeks after.
I've got it all - full labor and delivery. No baby.
Just a trash can full of pads.
I saw a Facebook post tonight about signing up for the Parent-Child Dedication at our church.
The one we were supposed to be a part of.
The one that takes place on my birthday.
Today I had Sammy at the house while my mom took Brady to school.
It was 40 minutes max and I cried for about 10 of them.
Poor Sammy just looked at me and didn't know what to do.
"Why cry, mama, why?"
He didn't know it was because he had just kissed my belly with baby sisters monkey and asked when she would be back.
Today I had to send an email to our clubfoot doctor to let them know we would not be coming in with a new baby.
Today I had to schedule my 6 week postpartum appointment and an appointment with a counselor.
Of all the emails and phone calls I had to take care of today it was the one I could barely get through.
It's all still really fresh and we are still really raw.
I never know what's going to set me off.
Craig will ask what happened or what I'm thinking about and I rarely have and answer.
It's only been one week.
It feels like one minute.
It feels like a hundred years.
