Due date

was the 18th. Tuesday. Still, I am a wreck.  I could also be balling and sad because I am devestated. It is ok to be sad. This IS sad. My baby is no longer here. He is no longer mine to hold, mine to nurse, mine to pray over.  While my hope is not here, newsflash: We are stuck here. Until we get the fast pass, or our Lord comes back, we are ordained to be here until He calls us home. My God will not abandon me, I know this. and I am left repeating truth to myself, or desperately searching scriptures for comfort. What I usually circle around to (the only thing that brings me comfort) is knowing I will get to meet up with him one day that is much too far away. So I end these sessions with what our reunion will be like. The mom in me wants to make sure he is ok. of course he is ok. Who welcomed him? Does he know how much I love him? How I miss him?  Does he know me? Has he missed me? What happened? Did it hurt? Can he hear what I am praying for him? Does God hug him and tell him how we love him and miss him so? What are the rules for heaven? And I finish these times in frustration.
I will spend the rest of my life grieving his sweet short life, and the miracle he was. I will never forget what God has done to my heart in this short time. I don’t know if you will ever get me back whole. In many ways I feel like I am on life support right now. I am breathing. Ingesting enough food to function. I can hear you. But I am broken like I have never been broken before. I revisit that morning, the hospital…. Revisiting the most painful moments in your life… and then a child cries over a stupid toy you know you have thrown away at least 6 times, or you have to unload the dishwasher. It feels like blasphemy. Motherhood and everyday functioning has all of a sudden gotten very confusing. I feel as though God has given me a home, a family, and role, but left me disabled. Does that make sense? In the moments of feeling the most disabled and overcome with sadness God is good to remind me He is still good. He is the same God as before all this happened. God has reminded me I have hope because He lost His son too. I have hope for my baby and being able to hold him again, because of the blood shed on the cross and the fact He was in fact resurrected. I am clinging to that hope tighter than I ever have. That is allowing the breath to come in and out. That is my life support.