Really?

Has it been over 3 weeks since we said hello and good-bye to our sweet baby boy? Wow...how does time fly by and stand still all at the same time?! I feel like it was just yesterday morning that I was walking--(somewhat waddling)--into the hospital to meet our little Junebug, to find out if it was a he or she, and to be blessed by a wonderful God who gave us much needed time with this sweet miracle. How has it already been 3 weeks?

There are many days that people ask Rob and/or I how we are doing. And sometimes we struggle with what to say. Does that person REALLY care to know how we are doing...or are they asking because they don't know what else to say to us? Like, if I say that I'm doing terrible, are you going to walk away? Or are you going to listen to me? Comfort me? Most of the time, we are just in survival mode. We are okay...we will get through this. God is giving us the strength and comfort to continue on--minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day. And to be honest, Wednesdays tend to be our roughest days--it's Ollie day! Those are the days that mark another week without our baby in our arms. We try to be as positive as possible on those days--but sometimes it's hard. And we need extra comfort, support, and prayer on those days.

Last night, we went to the pregnancy/infant loss support group at the hospital where we delivered Oliver. We didn't think we needed it going in, but afterwards we realized how much we did! And we enjoyed it! We made some new friends. We got to talk about Ollie, pass around my picture album, and get support and advice from moms and dads who have been where we are. I know that people who offer us advice and comfort mean well (and we appreciate it), but there is nothing like talking, listening, and crying with someone who (unfortunately) knows exactly what and how we are feeling. There were people there who lost their baby weeks, months, or years ago. It was nice to hear from the parents who are years out from the tragedy that there will be a day when we see the light at the end of the tunnel. That we will be able to truly enjoy life again. That there will be days that we don't cry. We also got confirmation that we aren't crazy for grieving still. We've had some people in our lives that have implied that we should "be over it" already. Or that I need anti-depressants because I am crying when I talk/think about Oliver. Those people don't understand that Oliver was a human, a baby...OUR BABY! He is our son! And we ARE allowed to grieve the loss of him...for how ever long it takes us!

At the support group, we were talking about the storms that wreaked havoc on Indiana this week. One couple shared that when the tornado sirens were blaring, the only things that they grabbed to take with them into their safe place were the momentos from the hospital (including the moldings of their daughter's hands and feet). I immediately chimed in and said "Me too! Me too!" :) Well, we planned ahead. Knowing that the storms were coming, Rob and I moved Oliver's memory box (full of his belongings) and the shadow box with his hand and foot moldings into the bathroom. So that when the tornado sirens sounded, we went into the bathroom and held onto Ollie's stuff. (And apparently, there were many other moms and dads that did the same thing!) We all cherish these treasures--they are irreplaceable. It's all we have left of our baby.

Enjoy Easter on Sunday. Remember--it's not about the bunny, colored eggs, and chocolate--it's about our Lord and Savior dying on the cross for our sins, raising from the dead, and ascending into Heaven. Because of this, we can have eternal life in Heaven if we believe in Him. I am so grateful for that! Not only will I get to live forever inside the pearly gates, but I will be able to see my little Junebug again (and meet all of his new friends) when it's my turn to get angel wings!