Christmas is Over

Well, Christmas is over and put away.  Not exactly sure how we got through it, but we did.  True our tree was only half lit for many weeks (it eventually did get fully lit and decorated thanks to my Mom for her help), I am just proud we even got to the tree farm this year and picked one out.  Man, was that hard!  I am okay with the idea of going places and doing things, until I start picturing how it would look if Brynn were here doing those things and going places with us.  That’s when the intense hurt seeps in. 

It was supposed to go that we all got bundled up to head to the tree farm and Brynna (all cozy in a winter sleeper) would be on my chest in the Baby Bjorn and we would keep each other warm while all the boys (Steven included) picked out the “perfect” tree.  Instead, we bundled up the boys and walked around the tree farm kind of in a sort of robot mode, and I carried a fuzzy pink baby hat in my coat pocket and held onto it as if my life depended on it.  There were a few smiles and the boys had a good time riding the train and eating warm doughnuts and drinking hot cocoa, but there was definitely a great big void.

That is the story of our life now.  We go along living somehow, but all around us we sense a great big void. 

Steven and I went to our first Compassionate Friends Meeting, which is a group for bereaved parents.  They meet once a month.  As we were walking in that cold winter night, we were struck with how much our lives have changed.  Three months prior to all this, I never even considered meetings like this take place.  Our reality at night time was staying home in our warm house, having family dinners and getting our kids to bed.  Not venturing out to some random meeting room at the back of a local hospital’s cafeteria to meet with other parents walking the horrible road of grieving the death of a child.

But, here we are.  It’s amazing how your body can keep going day in and day out, when you feel like your heart is shattered.

We are fast approaching the two month mark now, and I miss her more today than yesterday.  I am not only grieving the loss of our newborn daughter, I am mourning not getting the privilege to witness the girl and woman she would have become.  It breaks my heart that I will never get to put her hair into pigtails, that I will never know her favorite color, or know what her voice sounded like.  We had so many things planned for our little girl.  A life of love and laughter.   But now, we are left with a empty nursery and, even more, empty arms.

There are sometimes brief moments within the long days, that feel a little bit normal.  Like yesterday, when I sat down with all three boys to play a board game.  We were all engrossed in the activity at hand and having fun, and then it all washed over me again as the game ended, that Brynna is not here with us.

I miss her.