A few things you think about, when you lose a child.

Somewhere between week 32 & 33.

Yesterday was 14 weeks.

14 weeks.

That's 14 weeks without Emmett…without hearing his cry…without seeing his eyes open, even once…

Sometimes, the days pass without me noticing too much of a difference, and then sometimes, there are days like today.  Days where it smacks me in the face that each day that passes is one more day I'm not holding him.  I get so angry, and can't understand why this had to happen.

I cycle through the stages of grief.
I wonder if I could have done something differently.
(Side note: I couldn't have, and I know that, but I will probably still wonder about it forever.)
I once again wonder what his personality is like…sassy like me, or gentle like his daddy?

These are just a few of the things you think about, when you lose a child.

Being pregnant was a beautiful time of dreaming: imagining all of the things that could be, things our child could do, and so on.  I often laughed because I had so many people tell me he has such a stately name, and would joke with them, "Yep, he's probably going to be president!" Throughout pregnancy, I would wonder if he had our musical abilities (he sure liked to dance whenever he heard me sing, or daddy's guitar).  I wonder if he would have been outspoken, or quieter.

Losing Emmett hasn't made that state of dreaming disappear entirely, it's just shifted.  Instead of wondering what will be, I think of what might have been.  I've had a few people tell me to not think that way, and I usually just nod silently, all the while screaming in my head, "You don't even know what you're talking about."

I have to remind myself daily - there is no right or wrong way to grieve.  When you go through A Great and Terrible Loss, there's no way to determine your path.  You rejoice in your good days, and cling to that last thread of hope on the bad ones.  When you lose a child, you can't help but to wonder about them, and personally, I think that's okay.  I think it's important to remember and acknowledge our children, whether they are here or in Heaven.  There is a healthy balance to be had, but they should always be remembered, because we never stop loving them.  And because we love them so, we will probably never stop hurting for them.

When I see dark-haired, blue-eyed little boys, I think of my perfect baby.  I wonder if he would have been shy and clingy (a mama's boy ;), or if he would have been more bold and adventurous!  It's these littler things that hurt me over and over again.  Missing someone and missing all of their potential is taxing, it's exhausting.

I will not stop wondering.  I will not stop thinking about him.  I will not stop acknowledging him, for he is our son.