Daily Reminders

I never noticed other people's babies as much as I do now. This day started out pretty normal. I got up and got Jake ready for school. Then the little boy I babysit, Reed, came. After that I got Maddie dressed and we headed to Louisville to have my oil changed ( I was long overdue). We got home, had lunch, I put Reed down for a nap, Maddie didn't want to take a nap so we played Mariokart on the Wii. Jake got home, Reed got picked up and then Jake, Maddie and I headed to Kohl's to look for Jake a new pair of tennis shoes.

All normal activities. Then we went to Chic-fil-a for dinner. I ran into a friend who I hadn't seen or talked to since before I had Ethan. Her natural response to seeing me was to ask "where's the little one." Oh how I wished I could show off my beautiful baby. I told her the news and her reaction was as I had expected. Her eyes teared and the expression on her face told me her heart was breaking. She then revealed to me that she too had experienced a stillborn baby, at 51/2 months. It was her first pregnancy. She now has two beautiful children, a boy and a girl, just as I do. I have been absoutely amazed at the number of women who have confided in me that they are living their lives with a partial heart. They have lost children and therefore a part of their heart is missing. I would have never known had they not been willing to share this intimate detail with me. I am thankful, not that they experienced such a horrible loss, but that they shared their loss with me so I wouldn't feel alone. I have been blessed beyond measure by the amazing women God has brought into my life.

After Chic-fil-a we went to Jake's basketball practice. There was a couple there with a boy on Jake's team, a daughter about 2, and a baby boy about 3 months. The baby was adorable, but every time I looked at him, which was often, I felt the dagger stab into my heart. A couple of times the tears broke through. There are reminders everywhere I go. I know it will get easier with time. I hope I don't lose my friends through this process. I miss them terribly, but I just feel safer inside my home. At home I can choose when to expose myself to the pain, but outside things catch me off guard. It's as if someone is mocking me. I am trying to stay strong, but I feel weaker everyday. I just want to curl up in my bed with the box holding Ethan's ashes and waste away. I want to close my eyes and wake up in heaven in the presence of Jesus, angels and my sweet baby.