One month

Today is one month.

One month since Ryan was born.

One month since we held him in our arms in awe.

One month since we told Ryan "hello", "I love you" and "goodbye" in what felt like a blink of an eye.

One month since I held my son while he died.

One month of feeling an incredible amount of love for Ryan and an equally incredible amount of emptiness.

One month of millions of tears, both shed and unshed.

Most of this month, I have struggled to live in denial because that was how I survived most days. But there truly has not been a moment that I am not thinking of Ryan. There are moments that I am much like any new mom, I want to talk about my son and brag about him to everyone. But then my bragging would not sound much like other new mom's. I think about the breath that I saw Ryan take, I think about how strong he was to survive the 7 months of pregnancy and to spend two hours with us.

On Friday, I walked right into the anger stage of grief. I was angry that I had to celebrate a birthday in the midst of my grief. I was angry that I could no longer be a naive individual who did not realize the depth and width of the grief you experience with the loss of an infant. I was angry that forever my birthday will be the day that a nation and world recognize pregnancy and infant loss. When I was pregnant with Ryan, I often said that the only miracle I was hoping for was that Ryan would be alive at birth. Well, I got that miracle, but I am still angry. Friday was the first time that I said the words that I wanted God to save my child. Maybe I should find comfort in the fact that Ryan is in Heaven with God and is healed, happy, and perfect; and sometimes I do. But most of the time, I am angry, because deep down I wanted that miracle healing where Ryan would come home with me! I am angry that my family is having to walk this road of grief, that my son at 3 is learning about death, that to spend my birthday with my other son, I had to go to a cemetery.

If you see my in public and ask how I am, I will likely answer that I am okay or fine. Don't believe it. One song that has meant a lot to me during this journey is "I Will Carry You" by Selah and there is a line that goes "People say that I am brave but I'm not, Truth is I'm barely hanging on" I'm not brave and I'm not strong. I am a mother, who did what any mom would do for her child.