I was 25 when he died. It was certainly not what I thought I'd be doing at 25- planning my son's funeral.
I'll be 27 in a few months. This is certainly not what I thought I'd be doing at 27, even a year ago...I thought, well, I'll definitely be pregnant again by then...I'll probably even have a living child.
Yesterday marked one year since our second little babe went home to the Lord. Our little chipmunk.
Only 11 more weeks until the day passes when our third little one, our sunshine, should have been born.
And we're still here.
Still taking tests, waiting for the two lines to appear, waiting for the shocked cry and the happy homecoming ribbons stuck on the front door.
It's not what I thought it would be.
Yesterday, sitting in shocked silence, waiting for someone to recognize our babies, we listened to a couple with four (all living) children talk about how they were the only ones in our group with kids and it was different for us who had none...on and on they droned.
My bottom lip quivered, I took a few deep breaths, but didn't say anything. I guess I wondered if anyone would recognize the mistake. I waited for someone to speak up. I waited for my ears to stop ringing and I just sat there. Stunned silence.
Maybe the others were stunned too.
Such a blatant disregard for our babies, our children. So what if they didn't know our babies, so what if they couldn't even remember his name...Owen, our son, existed.
We drove home. More silence. Chris looked over at me and told me that I could let it out, that it was okay.
But it wasn't okay.
It's not okay. I will never be okay when someone ignores their existence. I will never get over them.
My mom called just an hour or so after we made it home. I hadn't cried until she called and asked how I was doing.
I did let it out then. My voice shook and the words stumbled out incoherently. 'Am I supposed to forget him? Am I supposed to ignore the 9 months I had with him? He's real, Mom. He existed and I won't forget him.'
My mom is the strong, silent type. She comes from a long line of strong women who don't show emotion easily, but she is so calming and has the ability to help me see perspective when I need it.
'Of course, you won't forget him. Of course not. You just can't expect people to be the first to mention him or talk about him. They don't know what to say or if you want to talk about him. You'll have to take the lead and do what you want to do. Talk about him the way you want to and don't let others dictate how you live. It's your life.'
It's not what I thought it would be, but she's right- this is my life. The one my Father has given me - the only one I have.