I'm here

Today the shit hit the fan. The tumultuous, getting back to life, grieving, babylost life is here. The emotions have officially set in. How could I have forgotten this feeling already?

I remember feeling this way last year, but it happened much more quickly. This time it was like the normalcy of the shit-house situation seemed totally mundane and almost in the way. But now it slapped me in the face and I remember how much it sucks.

I know that we've got so, so much going on right now in our busy life: new house to gut and put back together, old house ("the Love Nest") on the market, preparing for showings, dealing with the feelings of leaving this place, moving the longest 10 miles away from our home base to find a new home base, Jack doing school like a champ, Mari starting preschool and being a total rockstar, worrying about switching schools, seeing the sign actually in the ground to let the whole world know that we're up and going to the great beyond. It's time. And all of these changes are so very, very positive and feel so right. But at the same time I feel like my safety net of home is unsettled. Then you add dead baby hormones to that and it feels like I'm teetering on the edge of hard core drug addiction.

I totally snapped at Jack and Mari tonight for completely insignificant things. Why wouldn't I? I'm a walking psycho. But I'm still their Mommie. I cannot change for them. I am their "home" that they depend on to be their constant, no matter if it's in the city limits or on the outskirts. I realize that I must be gentle with myself, but I also take my job as Mom very, very seriously.

And I've been thinking of little Sully all day. Oh little man, I'm so very glad that you have your big brother to show you the ropes. I have peace in my soul -- peace like David had when he was being hunted, peace like Daniel in the lion's den, peace that comes only in the valley of the shadow of death. You are loved. So very, very loved. You were conceived in love, talked to and kissed on by all of us while your tiny body grew within my own, worried over, all of the things that we did for all of our children. But we couldn't keep you and I don't know why.

I don't understand why we couldn't keep you to show your big brother and sister that life isn't always this way. Their normal is to have Mommie get pregnant, stay that way long enough for it to be a big deal and then get to meet a dead baby. Why must they suffer loss like this? It's so very cruel.

"It's the best thing that you've ever had, the best thing you've ever, ever had, the best thing that you've ever had has gone away."