1 Month

It's been one month since we lost our little girl.

I went back to work today for the first time since May 25. When I left work that day, I was so excited to have our sonogram the next morning. I thought that when I returned to work the next day, I would be able to share with everyone our baby's gender. I thought I would be making plans to go shopping since I had been holding out until we knew for sure if we would be buying pink or blue. I had no idea all that was about to happen. I didn't know that I would not return to work for six weeks. I didn't know that I would be delivering my baby, handing her off to someone else, and saying goodbye forever. I didn't know that I would be communicating with a funeral home or composing an obituary. I didn't know that I would come back a completely different person. My life changed forever during these last six weeks. I will never be the same, but I know that this was God's plan for me.

It probably wasn't the best idea to return to work on the one month anniversary of our baby's death. I knew I had to go back sometime, and that it would probably never be easy. It was a reminder of how things were when I was there last. I was happy. I had a baby bump, and was starting to wear maternity clothes. I had been told that I was glowing.

My "glow" is gone. I tried really hard to keep it together and not to cry. I expected it to be a rough day. Within fifteen minutes of being there, I weighed an envelope to be mailed, and was caught off guard when the scale read nearly 7 ounces. I immediately thought of Lily, who weighed just 7 ounces. As I carried the envelope out to the mailbox, I tried to remember feeling the weight of my baby girl in my arms. Although this experience took place within about two minutes, it stuck with me all day.

Several of my friends called me or sent me texts just to let me know that they were thinking of me. My husband sent me flowers. Many of my co-workers welcomed me back with hugs. Some didn't say anything. It was a reminder that I have to go on. Life goes on. Everyone else goes on with their day as if it is just another day. For me, each day that passes is another day without my baby, and one more day since I last saw her. I don't ever want her to be forgotten. I resent it when people don't say anything to me because they don't know what to say. Obviously, no one will ever say anything to make me feel better, but I appreciate those who acknowledge that my daughter existed. I don't want to pretend that this experience is done and over because she is gone. It's not "over" for me. I want her memory and her spirit to live on. I love those people in my life who have acknowledged that I need support and although none of them know what to say, I appreciate them even more for just saying that.

Maybe this next month will start to get just a little easier. A lot has changed for me during the past six weeks. I didn't talk to anyone other than my husband, sister, and parents for the first couple of weeks, and now I am publicly expressing my feelings for the world to read. Who knows what this next month holds for me? In the meantime, while everyone else is going through the motions of their everyday routine, I am embracing my grief, and putting myself in the vulnerable position of expressing every raw emotion as it hits me. I'm hopeful that this will help me, and maybe someone else too.