...

I still don't know what to say.
that's why i haven't written.

my heart still aches for my son.
the tears still trickle.
my chest still tightens.
i cry in the shower.
i cry before i go to sleep.
i sit and stare at his picture.
i hold a doll like it is my son
... but i hug it tighter than i could if it were him.
i still blame myself.
i still wish.
memories still snap into my consciousness.
my heart breaks over and over.
i move forward in time
dealing with all this and trying to harmonize my son's death into my life.
it never really works.
i "pinterest" and look at all the positive quotes I have collected
all the beauty and inspiration i have collected.
i see my psychiatrist.
i go to a support group.
i don't watch the news or read newspapers.
i do card exchanges, gift exchanges, get togethers.
i attend candle lightings, butterfly releases, birthdays for children that are not here.
i talk to my son.
i cry to him.
i wish i could dream of him.

The old water pump at Chase Farm. It used to be right beside the barn.

the holidays are the days before we learned our healthy baby's heart stopped. the days when we were anticipating our second child who was supposed to arrive towards the end of January. On this day I was hoping that maybe he would be born early because I knew that now his lungs and heart were mature enough for him to be healthy and survive. My then seven year old daughter was even able to hear her brothers heartbeat and make him kick at my appointment two days earlier! we were unaware that we would not get our baby boy and brother. Yes, he would be born early but he would never get a birth certificate. we would never hear him cry, see his eyes look into ours, see his toes and fingers wiggle... we would never get to take him home to love and nurture. He was healthy and strong until his heart stopped beating the day before he was stillborn at 38 weeks. Born early like I had wanted... but maybe I hadn't specified that he was supposed to be alive as well? i thought that it was a given that I would want my son to be alive...guess not. my mistake? he was perfect in every way except he had no heartbeat and no breath, which in reality is far from perfect. he was perfect even with this lack of perfection. He seemed to be sleeping too peacefully. i wanted him to wake up. i wanted his bright red lips to turn pink. his bluish skin to turn pink...like his sister's was when she was born only without the "cottage cheese-y" stuff she had all over her from being an emergency c-section. i didn't want to be afraid of him... but i was. i'm sorry sweetpea.

memories make us who we are. it's too bad that some of them hurt so much but memories are all I have of Kai. i would not get rid of the memories of my time with him for anything. I will deal with the pain and heartbreak as long as I can have the memories of my son.