I've written this post a hundred times or more in my head. It's hard to even know how to begin. On Monday we learned that our baby had no heartbeat. It is one of the hardest things I've ever had to hear. I've run the gamut of emotions over the last few days and fully expect to do so some more. But I've been loved and hugged and comforted by my amazing circle of friends and family. I've never been so grateful for them all.
And in the in between times, when I'm not feeling numb or overcome with grief, I am struck at how odd it is to feel so sad by the loss of a life that I never truly knew. Yes, this was my child, but it was only 7 weeks old, I didn't know it's gender, or it's smile, hadn't heard it's cry. And it's more than just the death of a dream, or even a dream deferred. It's a deeply rooted sadness, and an unexpected one. Perhaps unexpected more out of ignorance than anything else. As a sweet friend said, it probably speaks to a deeper mystery about life that we just can't comprehend.
And so it goes. We will plod along, and spring will come, and life will begin to bloom again. I take heart in that. But for now we are quietly awaiting it, trying to look toward the sun through our tears.