3 weeks

As I drove to pick Sean up from daycare today , I realized that three weeks ago today was the drive home when the contractions started. Three weeks ago was the last time I heard Ryan's heartbeat. There are moments when I feel like so much more time has passed and there are moments that it feels like yesterday. I remember the thoughts that I wasn't ready and that I was supposed to have more time with Ryan and it still hits in the gut.

During three weeks, I have gotten pretty good at the denial stage of grieving. For the first week, we were busy with funeral arrangements and there was a purpose. I had these things that had to be done so that I would feel like we truly honored Ryan's life and role in our family. The morning after Ryan's funeral, I woke up and cried. I looked at Scott and asked "What do I do?" I was acutely aware that I had just buried my son and there was nothing I could think of to do that would be "appropriate". So for the last two weeks, I have buried myself in projects and tasks, with the plan of facing my grief later. Now as I have learned, my plans are just that, my plans, and often, I think I give God a good laugh with my plans. Grief has a way of sneaking up on you and making you turn around and face it with a song, a card, a picture, a thought and even questions from a three year old. Lately he has asked when Ryan can come back from Heaven and how he can still be my special boy after Ryan was born.

I have determined that there needs to be a guidebook for grieving after your baby dies. Just simply to provide reassurance to parents that their activities and thoughts are okay. One thing it will address is leaving the house. For two weeks after Ryan was born, I only left the house with a purpose - either funeral preparations or to ride with Scott to pick Sean up from daycare (I did not actually enter the daycare building during that time). I think we may have eaten out once or twice during that time, if we were in the middle of appointments. The thing was that I would spend the whole time we were out watching for people we knew, feeling guilty. I did not want to be seen because I thought I would be judged as not mourning my son. But what it was, was that for the preparations, I had to do them. Scott would have spared me that and offered to do them alone, but it was my son, who I carried for 7 months and he fought for two hours with me, so I was going to gather the strength to help with the preparations to honor him. The other times I left the house was because it was often too painful to be in a house alone, the thoughts would be overwhelming. But even still, three weeks after Ryan was born, I feel guilty often doing things away from the house. Planning for a fun outing with my husband or family, I wonder who I will see and what they will think. No parent who lost a child should have to worry about that!!!! The pain of the loss is beyond words.

During this whole experience, I was blessed to locate a group of women who carried their child to term (or as close to term as able) with a fatal or poor prognosis or are currently carrying. I first started communicating when I was still carrying and it is difficult to realize at times that I have passed on to the other group. One of them posted today a poem that really hit home for me right now. It is quite long, so I will put it in another post if you would like to read it.

Thank you again and again (I don't think I can ever say it enough) to those that have supported us and continue to support and love us through this journey. We are blessed by all of you. Please know that everything is appreciated - the prayers, cards, emails - it has all meant more than we can explain. Please feel free to share our story with others, that is the reason we have shared it. I started writing this blog to keep family and friends updated but now it is also my way of telling Ryan's story and helping his memory live on.