Monday, February 6, 2012


I wrote this several weeks ago and couldn't hit "publish." After re-reading it, I think it needs to be read. So here you go. Real. Raw. Emotions. 

If you don't yet follow this blog, you should. I've read Nella's birth story a hundred times. I have different emotions every time I read it. Most of the time it's "I know just how you feel" tears. Tonight, though, it hit hard. Floods of memories I didn't know I had crash in like tsunami waves. It hurts.

I didn't want to be alone that night. I didn't want to grieve by myself. I wanted somebody to share emotions with me - excited, sad, confused; any emotion at all would have sufficed. I don't blame anybody. I just wish it had been different than it was. Hiding my face from the reflection in the TV screen. Wanting so badly for the pain to go away; physical and emotional. Wishing I could clutch something other than my pillow. I wanted to hold my baby. I wanted to look in his eyes and pretend stereotypes didn't exist. I just wanted to rewind and start over.

When morning came, I did just that. I held my baby. I wanted so badly to feel something. I loved him; I knew that. But I needed the numbness to go away. I needed to feel it. It would be weeks before I would. It would be weeks before I worked up the nerve to tell somebody I needed them to rescue me.

I've learned to be independent with Micah being gone. Most of the time that's a good thing to be. That time... that time it wasn't. There was one night in particular I remember vividly. Ben slept peacefully in his pack n play next to me. Roxy curled up at the foot of the bed and stared at my like she knew exactly what I was thinking. God and I got to know each other inside and out. I cried out to Him like I never had before. I screamed at Him in anger and swore this cross was just too much for me to bare. I laid in the darkness and clutched the same pillow I hated just a few weeks earlier. I wept. The kind of crying that leaves you breathless; every fiber of your being stiffens like a 2x4.

I'm not writing this for sympathy. I'm writing because it's hard to believe how far we've come. Benjamin will be 10 months old next week. 10 months. Some days I forget that he wore preemie clothes when we brought him home or the size comparison to his daddy's Monster can.

I don't want to forget. However painful the memories may be; however emotional the weeks after; however long it took to swim out of that rip current. I want to remember every detail. I want to scribble it down before I have to share the pen with something else. 

I want to remember it all so I never forget how to thank God for the blessing that is.... 

my son...

my reason for living.

You gotta get through the storm to appreciate the rainbow. 

Best freaking rainbow. Ever.


  1. Beautiful words from a beautiful friend. Thank you so much for sharing. Keep writing my friend!

  2. I have said it a million times - you have a gift. I so appreciate your willingness to be real and raw in a world where most people are hiding in fear of other's judgement. Well said!

  3. Amen. BEST FREAKING RAINBOW - EVER! Love you, love Ben, Love our awesome God who gives us each the strength to get through every day, and night.

    Cade loves his best friend Ben and can't wait to see him again. We miss you terribly!

  4. Hello! In this post did you use the data from any extra studies or these are solely your personal conclusions? Can't wait to see your reply.

  5. I'm not sure I understand your question, but this is solely my experience and my story.