4 Months

4 months since our world crashed.

4 months since we said goodbye to our baby.

4 months since we last held our newborn.

4 months since he took his last breaths.

4 months since we had to make plans for his final goodbyes.

4 months is a long time.

The past 4 months have hurt so much.  

How do you ever get over losing a child?  I don't think you ever do.  How could you?  

You always hear people saying that you shouldn't bury your own child because it goes against the natural order of the universe.  When I was on bed rest I was taking a class about young adult lit.  I read "The Lovely Bones" about the murder of a 14 year old girl and this was the struggle her parents were facing.  And it seemed so distant.  It was a reality that, even on bed rest dangerously close to having severely premature babies, didn't really ever seem like a possibility to me.  

But I guess that's the thing about losing a child.  You don't plan it.  It just happens and you don't know how to deal.  When you're little and you're taught about death, you're taught about it in the context of pets and grandparents.  Not in the context of children.  Children aren't supposed to die.  It's just not right.

4 months later it doesn't seem any more right.  If anything it's more painful because it's getting further and further away and I feel more and more whiny if I bring it up.  It's like I feel like others feel that I should be over it.

Once again, incoherent thoughts govern my writing.  Instead I'll leave with some photos of my precious little baby boy.