Don't Forget

Will and I seem to be living in this bubble. Yes, we lost our baby girl... yes, we will get through this one day... yes, we want to enjoy each other and our friends again. We plead with you, don't avoid us like the plague. It's okay if you don't know what to say... neither do we. It's okay to tell a joke... we want to laugh. It's okay to just be there and say nothing, say anything, hug us or distract us, but please oh please, don't ignore us.

We know better than anyone that losing a baby is hard. We are living it. We don't want to lose our friends. Don't expect us to get over it. Everyday we wake up and relive our loss like we just woke up from a nightmare. EPT commercials, baby departments and crying babies almost become unbearable.

The pain from birth is still fresh in my mind. I slowly recover only to find my milk has come in days after I left the hospital. As we walk the aisles at Target like two zombies, a baby cries and my breasts ache. It's almost too much to handle.

And in the midst of all our pain, some forget that Will has lost a child too. His pain is different from mine, but very much the same. He named our baby Willow, long before we knew she was a girl. He spoke to her and rubbed my belly at night and talked about all his dreams for Olivia and Willow and Terrell. Now he's an outsider looking in. Trying to be there for me, but not sure what he should do. He kisses me everyday, soft gentle kisses on the forehead as he tells me over and over, "I love you". And I know he does. I always have, but I've never felt his love like this before.