Tonight's letter is a rant. Not to you, but to a part of life that is wearing Momma down. It has been a long week...
Momma is tired. Exhausted. Beyond exhausted, to be precise. And no one seems to remember - or care - about our path. Our journey.
I actually had someone complain to me today at work, "I'm tired of all this change. It's all we've done for the last 9 months. It just isn't fair." Really???? REALLY?! <sigh>
Come see me when you lose your child. Your son. The light of your life.
Come see me when everything that meant anything to you was found dead in a crib. In your nursery. In what should have been a "safe place."
Come see me when you have to give your own child CPR and the 911 operators are advising you to break his jaw.
Come see me when you have to spend 45 minutes on the phone with the organ donation group for Missouri only to find out your child isn't eligible to donate.
Come see me when you are forced to write your child's obituary.
Come see me when you have to choose - burial or cremation?
Come see me when you have to pick an urn and the inscription.
Come see me when you have to pick up the pieces and create a life. To move forward.
Come see me when you have found a way to live and dig into the zest of life while still mourning your son.
Then, I will listen to you. Then we can have a discussion about what's fair in life.
Until that time, I will simply nod my head and grit my teeth. I will keep in the front of my mind the fact that I love my family...I love and desperately miss my Peanut.
My amazing son...I love you. To the moon - and back.