It’s *only* been 12 weeks today. It feels like an eternity. We’ve been missing you more this week. It seems to be a common trend. Each week the pain, the grief, the missing you grows and grows. I think my mind is still trying to protect my heart from the reality of it all even though there is no escaping it. This has been the longest 12 weeks of my life. I’m dreading the back to school rush and excitement. I want to be taking your picture in front of our purple door and watch you excitedly go to school. I just still can’t comprehend you are gone. You should…

I don’t know. I just don’t know. People asking how we are doing. And my answer is always I don’t know. Surviving. I have no idea how I’m doing. How John is doing. I really appreciate the people checking in but then I don’t know what to say and feel like a conversation killer. I can’t put into words how I am..how we are because there are none. Some days I feel like I’m not doing this right. Not that there is a right way. Although I guess if we through ourselves into drugs or something that would be the wrong way. We aren’t doing that. But, I just feel…

I hope you didn’t suffer. They say you didn’t. I hope you didn’t know what was happening. They suspect you had no idea but without a reason we will never know for sure. I hope you only felt all the love that fills this house and constantly surrounded you and drifted peacefully off to sleep. It haunts me that I wasn’t there. That your Dad wasn’t there. We were completely unaware what was happening in our little house. It haunts me and will forever. After everything how did we not at least get the chance to hold you and surround you with love for your last minutes. It wouldn’t have changed anything…

See that? See that line or shadow in the circle on my bedroom ceiling? It might be hard to see in the photo but it’s not hard to see in person. I was laying in bed staring at the ceiling one day after Noah passed and my eyes fixated on this spot. I began to wonder what it was. Where did it come from? How couldn’t I ever have noticed it before? It is on “my side” after all. Right above my spot really. Then it hit me. Like a Mac truck. I *know* what it is. I’ve had similar lines throughout my house in the last 6 years. Sometimes on…

Coming up on the first month of firsts since Noah and it’s getting so much harder. With each passing second I miss that face, that palsy smile and kiss, that awkward gait he had when he walked, those tickle fingers, and even those sneaky fingers creating mischief just a little bit more. Sadly, being part of the CHARGE community I have seen friends and acquaintances and strangers go through this immense loss and I shed tears at home along with them and always wondered to myself: How do you come back from losing a child? From this? Now I know. You don’t. You can’t. A piece of you is gone…