Everything will be different. Again.
At this time tomorrow, your sister will be here with us, Luke. I can't describe the relief I can already anticipate feeling once we're there. I've been waiting for that for 9 months now. I can't believe it's finally time.
This morning I went back through our pictures--of meeting you. I'm not sure I should have done that, but I wanted to feel connected to you before we jump on this next rollercoaster. I wanted to see your face again...to refresh my memory so we can see if your sister looks like you.
But looking back at the pictures of you and me and your Daddy...the hurt and sadness and fear and anguish are so visible. It still hurts to see us like that.
I never want to feel that way again. I see those pictures, and I feel those feelings so hard. But I know that in no way are the feelings as raw right now as they were that very day. Thank god.
I still can't believe what happened to you. To us. I still can't believe we have pictures of our son in a tiny coffin.
Today it doesn't really feel real. Today I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that everything will change tomorrow. That I will finally understand what it means to make it through pregnancy and have your baby alive in your arms. Something that seems to be a given for everybody else...I'll finally get to understand it.
Today I wish I ever got to see your smile. Or your eyes.
I'm scared, but I know that at this point, there's nothing else to be scared of, because the worst has happened.
I still miss you, today, and forever. That will never change.