July 30, 2016
Happy two-week birthday-versary. It seems today was our last day in New Hampshire. I say “it seems” because I won’t believe it until Daddy has managed to drag me out of here kicking and screaming. I know we have our physical pieces of you, but I can’t help but feel like I am leaving you behind. We brought you here a bouncing baby in my belly, who we absolutely could not wait to meet. We leave with a tiny (impossibly tiny) bag, broken hearts, and lonely belly. This is the last place we were together as a family, the last place I felt you rolling around inside me. This is the place where we lost you, the place I had to live on without you, the place I labored, and the place I delivered you with Daddy firmly by my side. The is the place where we held you, cried for you and played “Crazy Love”, our first wedding dance song, while cherishing our final moments with you. This is the place your Daddy worked so hard to help me heal physically and emotionally. This is the place where I realized how strongly I could love (both you and Daddy). This just feels like our place and I don’t want to leave it.
Home will be empty without you and lonely without my parents. Home means life is one step closer to a new normal that I so desperately want to avoid. Home means seeing your nursery returned to an unassuming guest room. Home means pretending all of this didn’t happen if I want to function. I love home – I do. But it feels like I am leaving part of my soul in New Hampshire.
I hope you will follow me home. Everyone says that you will, but I struggle to believe that you won’t feel a bit more distant.
On a different note, I finally carved your sign with your Grandpa’s help. We didn’t have some of the finishing tools, so your Grandpa is going to sand, varnish and frame it for us. It should come as no shock that your Daddy picked red paint for the lettering.
Speare Memorial Hospital is naming our room there after you. Hopefully, we can return Columbus Day to see it. Your Grandpa gave a beautiful toast during our chili dinner tonight. There were a number of tears shed. There were no jokes, just kind complimenting words. He told us we were parents now because of you and that nothing can change that. It is so very true. I am so proud and honored to be your mommy, no matter the pain.
I love you so dearly,