It’s my last full day off from work today – after the weekend, I’ll be going back part-time. While I’m not sure how easy it will be to concentrate on working for 4 hours a day, but maybe it’ll help me get “back to normal.”
I put that phrase in quotes because…well, there is no normal. Life without you will have to be a new normal. Our lives were supposed to be changed forever by your birth, and they were, but definitely not in the way we expected.
We found out you were sick in October. Our lives since then have been a beautiful mess – beautiful because you were here, but a mess because of how scared we were.
Every week, we went in to have an ultrasound to check on how you were doing. Every week, I got so nervous to see how you were. Every week, we were told the same thing – “wait and see.” So that’s what we did, week after week. Our lives were in constant limbo between doctor appointments. Would you survive another week? Would your heart rate dip even lower? Would your hydrops be worse? These are the questions we had to wait and see to find out. We waited through Thanksgiving, we waited through Christmas, we waited through New Year’s.
Thankfully, you kicked up a storm through much of that time, so we got to feel you and hold you and see you grow for all of those weeks. But, my sweet Jonah, we were so weary from the journey. The stress of wondering and waiting was taking a toll on us, both physically and mentally.
Now that our pregnancy journey is over and you’re safely in Heaven in your Grandma Kelly’s arms, I just feel so empty. My belly is empty, my arms are empty, and my days are empty without you here. I have no more baby inside me to protect, nor do I have one to hold or take care of. I’m just me, without you. I am empty, and there’s nothing in the whole world that can fill that emptiness that I feel right now for you.
I know that as time goes on, I will find ways to fill myself with other things – with work, house projects, trips with daddy, friends, family, and maybe even a younger sibling for you some day. Those things, though, will never fill that one perfect Jonah-sized hole in my heart.
For now, that hole is the only thing I can think about…the only thing I can feel. It swallows my entire heart and soul, and climbing out feels impossible.