Over the past few days I have had several moments. I can't really explain them in writing, and words do them no justice. But these moments really get to me. The moment from today actually hurt. I was sitting at my desk, on a conference call. While listening to the call, I sat in a daze, starring at the two photos of Wyatt on my desk. I remember thinking, "He is gone, he is really gone and he isn't coming back." It hit me.
I honestly believe that it literally had just hit me, like really hit me, for the first time. For the past almost five months, I have known that my baby has been gone. He died In Utero, I know that. But for most of the past five months, I kept thinking he was coming back, as if he was being borrowed, because a child just doesn't die. Not a child who was wanted so badly, not one who was loved so very much. Wrong! It hit me at that moment, on that call. The heavy push on the heart, the pain in the back of my throat, the tears welling up in the eyes, the weakness that was felt throughout the body, it all hit me. I couldn't move.
I shook my head, looked at the pictures again, took a deep breathe, and thought "You already knew that, you knew he was gone. It's been like this for almost five months now, where have you been?" Well, the truth is, I have been stuck in the moment. Stuck back on June 4, when the doctor told me over and over again that "the baby didn't make it". Stuck in the shock of those words. I have been trying to process those words for almost five months now, each word, one at a time. There are five words and it took me five months. "The baby didn't make it".
It hit me today that the baby didn't make it. When I viewed the obituary tonight, I knew I wasn't returning closer to the day we lost him, I was drifting further away.
The baby didn't make it, I finally understand, he is gone forever, he was not borrowed and he is not coming back.