It has been one year, seven months and one day since I endured the pain and experienced the joy og birthing the baby boy who made me a mother. One year, seven months and one day since I endured the pain and experienced the joy of holding my baby Marc and kissing his beautiful little face but knowing that would be the only time I would ever do so. In just minutes I had gone from the highest high to the lowest low and I said goodbye to every hope and dreamed that I had formed for Marc over the past nine months. Oh and what I would give to have been able to have had just one look from him, but I never even got to see his eyes. Lately when I am alone I find myself in a pensive mood. Reflecting on the past year and a half and wondering if I am doing ok. Jack is sitting on my lap watching my fingers strike the keys. If Marc had lived this beautiful child in my arms would most surely not exist. What a strange feeling it is, longing for what you lost but rejoice for the place you have come to. Jack is the glue that has pieced my broken heart together again. My days are busy and filled with new experiences, love and laughter. I am so incredibly happy but I wonder if that is partly because there just is not time to be sad. Yet as I sit here now, tears flowing, Jack is looking at me and laughing and I cannot help but smile back.
“You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.”― Anne Lamott
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