**Caution: Emotional Journal Entry!**
Today was good, especially for having gone through what we did yesterday. It was hard, by far the most nerve wrecking thing we’ve ever had to deal with. At the same time it was beautiful and precious. I entered the sanctuary and saw the urn at the altar and realized..that’s my baby in there. I will never hold him, I’ll never burp him or kiss his face. It killed me on a different level, a part of me hurt that I’ve never felt hurt before. I know we’ll have more children, no matter how hard the process, it will happen; but that doesn’t bring him back. The little boy that should be ours is in Heaven, and that’s something that any mother would understand is not always comforting. He should be with us, not in a box.
As I sit here in bed around midnight I think to myself, we will never be normal again. Our lives will constantly revolve around the thought of children and babies, and how hard it will be for us to have ours. For the rest of our lives we will live with the pain of knowing that our first baby isn’t with us and had to be taken from me that day in December. It helps to think of the ‘one day’ when we have our babies, but that doesn’t fix the ‘right now’ of the pain and suffering of losing him. I don’t understand why I was chosen for this to happen to, and I can’t be happy around others who don’t understand the magnitude of how lucky they really are to experience the simple normalcy of pregnancy.