"...It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold...”
It's been almost a year since I shed a tear for you, but today... today I have been over-come with thoughts of you and what could have been. I looked down at your baby brother today, who holds the name we chose for you... and I sobbed.
I'm now writing this through blurry eyes...
I will never understand it.
I held your brother, Jude, close to my chest today and hoped God was doing the same with you.
I remembered being in the sunroom, staring outside... sitting in the old, wood rocking chair when the phone rang. And the nurse, in not so many words, told me to let go of hope- and at that moment, it very appropriately began to rain.
A spring shower. And I took your older brother outside. I wanted to feel it. I think I would have been angry if the sun was shining.
And when I found out I was pregnant with your baby brother, I cried tears of fear instead of joy. You were on my mind.
Grief is unpredictable. The weather is cold.
Thinking of you today. Sending you light and love and trying to let go.