6 weeks

I find myself stuck between trying to desperately remember every moment of my short time with Sarah - and torturing myself relentlessly with pieces that are only painful.

The other night all I could think about was Jonah coming home from school and being SO excited to meet his new sister. And the confusion on his face when we tried to explain to him that she had died. This loop played over and over in my head.

I think about holding Sarah, so warm from the heated blankets that they wrapped her in. Studying her toes, opening the blanket to find the sacral dimple on her back and not knowing, at the time, what it was.

I try to remember - when was the last time that I was sure I felt Sarah kick me?

Details that are true, painful and real.

But most of the last 6 weeks have been a blur. For the first time in 5 years I am actually using a calendar. I no longer trust my brain to remember anything. Falling asleep is usually okay, but I dread waking midway. If my brain turns on, it's never productive, positive thoughts. It's only the negative second-guessing that I can rationally talk myself out of during daylight hours.

There have been nearly 20,000 hits since I started this blog. My hope is that losing a baby will never happen to you or a loved one. But if it does, perhaps you'll understand a bit more about how they may be feeling. And to remind you that a baby born still is still a baby. Still a sibling. Still a grandchild. Just one that left too soon.