Right where I am 10 months and 2 weeks later.

Angie from over at http://www.stilllifewithcircles.blogspot.com/ has for the second year in a row started a beautiful project for all of us to join in on. A chance to talk about where our grief is at this very moment. Last year I was not part of this amazing group of people, oblivious to this corner of the world. Since the loss of our sweet Braedon, this place has been my lifeline. My pain is echoed and understood in the words of so many and I wish I could thank them all for continuing to document their journeys on this path of pain, sorrow and new beginnings.

I wish I knew how to say the words that so many of you deserve. The other Moms and Dads who write so beautifully of their heartbreak and all about grief and even finding new joy.

So bitter so sweet the words that fall across the screen. Beautiful and painful and all together perfect. Words that have carried me across the current of grief over the past 10 months. My heart has ached and I have shed tears for so many babies and cheered on those who have written words of their new little ones and new happiness found.

The past couple of months I have had a hard time, lurking and needing this place and the counseling that it gives. So strange to think that grief counseling counseling can be found in the blogs of others. But it is there and it is treasured by myself and so many others. Those who have gone before me and those who come after with hearts newly broken. I don't comment lately my typed words often feel flat compared to what my mind wants to express, but I read and I care so much for this group of people who I have never met in real life.

We may not find each other in a crowd but I believe if I met any of you for even just a moment, I would wrap my arms around around you and be so happy to call you friend.

On June 13th, just 11 months to the day that Braedon left us, we are scheduled to deliver our newest son. To say that having him on this day was an easy choice would be a lie. We were supposed to deliver on the 14th but our doctor failed to tell us of the scheduling change. We would have had to wait another week if we choose to move the date. Taking us past the 38 mark and into territory I do not wish to visit.

It seems only fitting to say that right where I am today is not where I expected to be at 10 months and 2 weeks exactly. There are moments throughout the day where I rub my belly and I find peace and happiness. We have done all we can to start to embrace the possibility of this new life.

Coming Soon!

But it is the missing life that holds my heart and brings tears to my eyes with just the mere thought. I think of him constantly, missing and wishing. I don't talk of him with others but he is there with me. I thought by now I would feel more comfortable in my grief, yet it still fits me like shoes 2 sizes too small. I can not bring him into the conversation as I so often wish. He is mine and I do not share well. I don't want them to see my pain for it is for me and me alone. In these past months the pain has not lessened just become more bearable and easier to carry.

So missed. 

I forget to dust his shelf. Today I ran my hand across it and picked up dust particles with my fingertips. I love him no less but I find myself not thinking of these things. He is in a box. It is not him but it is all I have of him. I resent this box of ashes. I love this box ashes. I open the lid sometimes and touch the package of grains. His small bits and pieces. Seems so strange to me but even today I have to touch. But I no longer have to dwell. I know he is with me and not on a shelf. I carry him in my heart. He is the blood pumping through my veins, the words whispered in my ears. I feel him when the wind touches my skin. I ache to hold him in my arms but I take peace in knowing that he is still a part of me. For as mothers we never really let them go once they leave our bodies.

I keep his picture on my phone. I find myself looking for reasons to glance at it throughout the day. To see him, to constantly remember, to never forget each detail of his little nose, his little lips. Everything about him I want to hold on to.

Right where I am at this moment is hopeful, sad, happy and so many other emotions. I miss him, I wish he was here with me starting to pull up and perhaps learning to walk. When I came home from the hospital empty handed I thought my world had ended. I was stuck in a deep dark pit of despair and could not see a way out. Now I can see the joy that life still has to offer. There is still beauty out there. There is still happiness to be found. Life moves forward and I will go with it but he will go with me.