Late night posts aren’t usually the best for me, flooded with emotion and rambling thoughts.

A year ago we found out we were having a baby.
Today we went to his grave like every Sunday. I am very grateful that he was born on a Sunday, it’s a peaceful day. A day that I didn’t have to worry about anything other than delivering my baby boy; no school for the kids, no work for Josh, the family we had close by didn’t have to cancel their work or school to be with us or help with the kids. 

My dreams have changed from memories of the pregnancy, his death, his birth day, to dreams of what he would be like as a living baby boy. 

One of my friends posted pictures of a newborn baby in her family laying on a blanket she had knit him and his eyes were open. I had such a flash of Rex’s closed eyes that it took my breath away. I never got to see his eyes. I never got to see that look of recognition that a newborn has for their Mamma, that seeking look they get & then focus on your face. The flash of knowledge that passes over them the first time they hear their daddy’s voice they know from the womb.

Did I do something, could I have done something different? Should we have had him tested to see what caused his death? Did I have an infection I didn’t know about? No, they tested me for just about everything they could and we didn’t want our perfect little baby to be touched any more than was absolutely necessary.

This grief morphs with time. 

Sometimes it’s an ugly grief. An empty pit of loss inside me.
Sometimes it’s a peaceful loss. Knowing I held him in me for his entire life. He never has to experience pain, loss, grief. But with that brings a sadness that we don’t get to share every day of our lives with him,  happy & perfect or not.

Trevor stated the other day that he thinks it would be interesting if this life we live is just a dream we are having. He didn’t have much else to say about it but it certainly got me thinking. I remember that thought as a kid. Having those dreams where in your dream you wake up from dreaming repeatedly to find that you are still sleeping & dreaming. Those dreams always left me very unsettled. 

My dreams are too vivid lately. I don’t like them. I don’t like what they leave me with. So I don’t go to bed until I am falling over standing up & I don’t get out of bed in the morning until I just cannot sleep any longer (don’t worry, it’s never later than 10am & usually closer to 8am). I know there is a concern over depression & isolation. I don’t know what to say other than Josh & I are doing what we need to be doing.

Hormones blow.
Birth control blows. 
While I like the 99.9% effectiveness of the implant I hate that I have had “spotting” for over a month straight now. And hair loss. And flabby weight gain. And cyst acne.
We decided that the side affects are worth the effectiveness and we’ll cross our fingers that I will adjust & after a period of time things will even out. 
I am giving it a year in place. 

On a more upbeat note (yet still emotional) we are going to look at 2 cats tomorrow night that someone needs to get rid of due to sudden severe cat allergies in a family member. They are fixed, raised together, 1 male & 1 female, like a busy household. It took some convincing to get Josh to agree just to go look at them. He doesn’t want to open himself up to any more hurt. I know that I am using them as surrogates for ever having another baby. That’s just the way it is. We both have fear & we have to face it and deal with it. He will be a basket case when it comes to the cats being outside, doors open, etc. I get it. The kids will just know that is how their dad is.

Trevor sat on Josh’s lap this morning & said, “You’re not my stepdad, you’re my dad.” 
It was hard not to burst out crying, how Josh held it together I don’t know but a couple minutes later there were tears. He’s having a hard time missing his daughter Kat in Sacramento, doing his best not to feel constant guilt, regret, shame over not being the best he could have been when she was growing up.

He refuses to live in the past, can’t change it, he can’t predict the future, he just has today as a gift & that’s why it’s called the present.
That is something he tries to drill in to my pessimistic, future-trippin’ brain & eventually it may actually set in.

I think I will end there tonight & prepare myself for some much needed rest.


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