Today is Hayden's original due date. It's crazy to think that he should have been born today yet he's already 3 weeks old. Time has just flown by!
A friend of mine asked me a few weeks ago what I was going to do with this blog. I wasn't sure exactly what she meant by that, but I'm assuming that she meant that since I now had my miracle baby that things were better and I was "healed". The truth is, that Hayden makes my heart sing and makes my life better and happier but he can never replace Sam and Jack. I will always miss them and no amount of time can or will ever change that. It's simple, they're not coming back as much as I'd like them to.
When we were in the hospital just a couple days after giving birth, Mr. H and I took a walk around the maternity floor per doctors orders. We walked past the nursery and the nurse's station that peered down the hall. I saw the room at the end of the hall by the exit sign in which Sam and Jack were born. It's been 4 1/2 years since I've been in that room but I was ready to go back there. I was in a different place and I could handle it, or so I thought.
We asked the nurse if anyone was in that room and she said that a couple had just left that room but it wasn't clean. If we wanted to go in there we could. We walked down the hall, slowly, hand in hand. About 15 feet in front of delivery room #6 and I was stopped in my tracks. I saw the card on the door. The card in which a leaf cradled a tear drop. The card that meant a baby had died. My heart sank knowing that those parents had to walk out the back exit just so they didn't have to walk past the nursery full of babies. I cried for them knowing they were leaving the hospital without their much loved and wanted son or daughter. I wanted to rush out to the parking lot and hug them and tell them that I understood what they were going through. I wanted them to feel less alone but I couldn't.
In that moment, when my world was shining bright and was whole again, I was reminded just how fragile life is. I know how blessed I am to have this sweet soul in our lives and it doesn't matter that at 4 am, he's wide awake and won't go back to sleep because he's gassy. It doesn't matter that I've cried a few times over my lack of milk production because I thought I was failing him as a mother and he was going to starve. What matters is that he's here and we are doing our best.
I will have struggles as a new mother and I will have down days when I miss Sam and Jack so much that I can't function. I didn't go into room #6 on that day- I had to turn back around. And as long as I have moments like that when grief comes out of nowhere slaps me in the face, I will still be here and so will this blog.