The times are few that I ever use this space to write a letter to Heaven.
But not a day goes by that you are not on my mind.
Today we talked about having another baby again. I’m scared to pieces. It won’t be happening for a few months (hopefully) but pregnancy is scary stuff.
I know all the things that can go wrong.
And they went terribly wrong with you.
Having no answers, and only assumptions leaves me feeling helpless.
And desperately leaning on the mercy of God who holds life and death in his hands.
The more time that goes by, the less all of this makes sense. I have a feeling it’s supposed to be the other way around.
May is getting closer and that ache that seemed to numb after Christmas passed has begun to open once again.
There’s this giant hole baby girl.
And only you could ever fill it.
I’ve pretty much given up on people IRL trying to understand this. I feel bad admitting this, but it’s made me a little hard on the inside.
I don’t want to stay that way.
It’s an overwhelming sadness that you get tired of trying to put into words. And then there comes a day you actually feel bad for the people who want to help you. Because you know they just can’t.
You get so used to living with it, you almost convince yourself that maybe you didn’t completely lose yourself when you lost. But after a good long stare in the mirror, the reflection doesn’t lie. You aren’t the same. Not by a long shot. You have different kinds of sadness, deeper love and maybe even different joys in life.
I don’t know how I got from the raw place of grief every single day, to today – where it almost feels like something I can pick up and let go of more easily. But it’s always there, just in a more tolerable way.
On a happier note, I am working with your brother to recognize you in pictures. He almost said your name the other day. He loves repeating words and watching me and your Dad beam with pride over his progress, so it won’t be long
Is Heaven filled with hints of spring? I hope so. Down here, the weather is beautiful. I can only imagine what your home must be like.
Most days before bedtime, I’ll wrap your brother in my arms and tell him thank you SOOO much for being MY Bubby!
Thank you for being MY Jenna, baby girl.
love to the moon & back,