Today was a bad day...

I really wanted it to be okay today.  I wanted to just focus on Jeff and on my own dad.

We had special recognition in the morning service for all of the dads in the congregation, and when my dad went to pray over them, some of the things he had to say hit home a little too well.  He mentioned that "some of these fathers have families who are facing really gut-wrenching situations and they need Your help to be the leader of their home that they are called to be more than ever before", and I looked up to where my husband stood to see his shoulders slump.

 I couldn't help myself, and before I knew it I was furious.  My husband should have TWO babies to snuggle and be spoiled by today.  He should NOT have one slowly decaying a few feet below the surface of the earth that he never really got to know.  He should not have the weight of the world on his shoulders because he's trying to "be strong" and give me time to grieve.  He shouldn't have to let me grieve at all because our child should still be alive.

While I napped, I cuddled Kaidi's hospital blankets.  I'm sure I just imagine it now, but I swear I can still smell her on them.  In my mind, I was holding her, napping with her like I did with Kamden when he was tiny.  But when I woke up, it was just a blanket...and my body ached for her.

It hurts the most right now to see any pregnant woman who is anywhere near her child's due date or a mom with a newborn close to Kaidi's age.  I do what I can to remind myself that I don't know HER story - she may have suffered horrible loss of her own, had to deal with a long road of trying to conceive, or possibly even faced the scare of infertility...or, she could be carrying a baby that she isn't sure is going to survive.  Most times that calms "the beast within", but I can't help the feelings and thoughts that rush through my mind.  Things like

• "Why does she still get to feel her child moving inside of her?  Why is it that all I have is the tears that trail down my cheeks at night while I lay as still as I can with one hand on my belly, SWEARING that I can still feel her moving, but I know that it's all an illusion created by my mind to somehow deal with what I'm facing...?"
• "Why does she get to complain about people rubbing her belly?  I'd do anything in my power to have that chance again.  People never felt of mine as it was...  I guess it was awkward with not knowing if my baby was going to live, so they kind of ignored where she was."
• "Why is she complaining about nursing?  I sit daily and pray that my milk has finally dried up so that I won't have that slap in the face reminder when I wake up in the morning every day."
• "Why is she complaining that her baby is crying again?  I never got to hear my baby cry...I know I would have been tired and likely complained like everyone else...but I'd give anything to have to wake up because she was crying in the middle of the night."
• and the hardest to admit to, but the most thought..."Why is HER baby alive...and why is mine dead?  Why was it MY daughter who had to have the 'lightning strike' diagnosis that just happened to be incompatible with life and not someone who never wanted their child to begin with?  Why is it my family suffering???" (Now, I do want to add that I would never in a million years hope that any other mother had to face this type of pain.  I'd never want to see another family have to go through this.  It's just thought I have that has to be dealt with.)

The hardest part of it all is knowing that I can ask all the questions I want to ask but that this side of Heaven I will most likely never have the answers to my questions.  I can speculate that:

• God knew we were strong enough to handle it and maybe our story will help someone else.
• It's just a part of life in a fallen world.
• She would have been in more pain here than we could ever imagine and so in His mercy, God allowed her to come home before we did.

but I can tell you that NONE of those reasons is good enough.  I want my daughter back.  People ask what they can do, and the one thing I need most NO one can do.  I need her.