Desert Laura

Sometimes, when I look back on that day and the days that followed, I feel this incredible sadness.  Not only for you and what you went through, not for the fact that you died and being without you, but also for my own life, my own heart, for Chris' life.  The pain, hurt, loss and heartbreak during the month before you died, your death, and the time afterwards, is just so horrifying that this happened. And to me, my son, my husband. I tell myself that there are much worse things that happen to millions of people every day.  When I compare our situation to all the suffering around us, we have so much to be grateful for - the love and support we received from family and friends, the knowledge that you knew nothing but love from those around you, and that you died peacefully.  I try not to get weighed down feeling sorry for myself that such a terrible thing happened to my first child.  But I don't deny that pain.  To deny it would minimize or take away from...

Four months ago today I delivered my son  at St. Joe's Hospital.  I held his body in my arms and saw him for the first/last time.  After 20 hours of labor and 4 weeks of anxiety and fear, little Nico left this world before really ever having a chance to see it.  I still cannot believe it's been 4 months.  I sometimes cannot believe that I've made it through today , still walking and working and living and breathing and sometimes even laughing.  I can go back to that day and the days prior like it was just yesterday and I'm flooded with the same feelings of sadness and grief.  We have a long journey ahead of us, but we're getting there. We just finished celebrating Thanksgiving, a time of giving thanks, a time of being thankful.  But I kept thinking "I cannot be thankful, there is nothing only emptiness and sadness."  How do we begin to celebrate this day when my son is dead?  What goodness is there in my life to be thankful for ri...