Living through his Mama.

Living through Mama, 24 weeks.

My heart aches so. I feel grief in it's fullest form, in every part of my life. I was speaking with my sweet husband about our baby, and I explained to him that I feel frustrated because not only do we miss out on bringing this infant home with us, we miss out on a life time of raising this child as our son. All the years. All of it. It seems so unfair. Isn't the deal that if you are willing to sacrifice your body for 9 months, you get a baby in return? Some where along the way, I signed the wrong dotted line. I must have been a really stupid soul in the spirit world, volunteering for a life time of suffering. Any one willing to have both of your biological parents abandon you? I am! Any one willing to be abused and molested? I am, sign me up for that as well! Any one willing to be then adopted into a home where your parents hate you, in-prison you, smack you around, tell you are worthless?? Sure! Add that to the list! Are you freaking kidding me? And now THIS? Can't Father In Heaven figure out that I've had enough. Like, a long time ago? And yet, here we are, loving this child any way. Thinking of his birth, dreaming of minutes, hours with him. Hours?? This is what I've come to? I've been having relentless nightmares the past couple nights. One after another, after another, after another. All of them are about the baby. Most of them I can't remember in detail, but each time I wake up, I am more and more exhausted then before. I began shopping for the baby Saturday. I made it though a few displays, and I felt my eyes fill blurry with tears, and I began to sob. I hid my face in the coat until I could bite my lip hard enough to stop crying, and on we went. I showed my purchases to my girlfriend, and she gently asked if I felt any better, and I shouted NO, beginning to sob again, This is not how it is supposed to be!! She touched my arm. She understood. In many ways I feel grateful having this time to prepare. I know what lies ahead. I know my arms will be empty when I head home from the hospital. I know my family, in appearance will remain the same, until some later time. I know all these things, and feel that, some how, God gives me just a taste of the grief, a little bit at a time, until he knows I can shoulder more.