I still have them a lot. I either I wait too long to try and fall asleep or I wake up with a physical pain in my chest/heart because I miss Charlie so badly. Last night was one of those nights that then turned my day into "one of those days."
I woke up last night and felt sick. I sat up. I grabbed my phone to check the time. It was 3 a.m. I felt like I hadn't slept at all. It is impossible to describe this empty, lonely, "wish things were different" sadness that actually makes me physically ill. What is worse is that almost as soon as I wake up on these nights my mind immediately relives the horror. I experience every emotion, even those emotions I thought I had "dealt with." I feel guilt, sadness, small pockets of joy, anger, love, frustration, thankfulness, and bitterness. I remember those 17 days of Charlie's life more vividly than I remember anything else that has ever happened to me.
I got out of bed and sat in the floor of our closet so I wouldn't wake anyone up. I reread all of Charlie's Caring Bridge pages. I read the comments and the outpouring of love that we received that I hadn't read before. I held onto Charlie's blanket and once I calmed down I laid back down in our bed. The ache didn't go away so in order to try and keep myself calmed down I decided I needed to pray for a miracle. I am not sure who or what I was praying for I just cried out to God. I begged for a miracle. I desperately need to see a miracle.
Help me in my unbelief.
Our miracle here on earth didn't happen for Charlie. As I walked through my entire pregnancy and Charlie's entire life God continued to prepare my heart to understand that I had to give Charlie back to Him far sooner than I would ever want to or ever dream of. I knew even as I prayed for a miracle while we were in the hospital that it wasn't going to happen; not because God couldn't do it if He wanted to but because it wasn't God's plan. My pregnancy was filled with a mother' intuition along with my Father's gentle nudging that something was not right. Each and every single hiccup made my heart stop. When we reached Children's Hospital and were admitted to the ICU after just minutes of walking in I knew I heard God saying "trust me" and I pushed that thought as far from my mind as I possibly could in order to do all I could to make decisions to help make Charlie better. It wasn't part of Charlie's purpose to live a long life here on earth. I am not OK with that most days, but I am learning to rest in the arms of my Savior.
There is a quote, "A mother's arms are made of tenderness, and a child sleeps soundly in them."
I was blessed to hold Charlie in my arms for 17 days. Even when he was connected to machines and tubes he did sleep soundly. God let me have that memory of Charlie, completely unblemished, because he knew the many blessings wrapped in it that I would cling to on my worst days. But now that he is in his heavenly Father's arms I am certain the comfort there is something I cannot even being to grasp. What a blessing this is for me.
Today was awful. I was in a weird, frustrated, exhausted mood all day long. I just wasn't myself with my husband or my closest friends and I am fully aware of it. I wish I could say those days will never happen again but I know that I would be lying to myself if I acted like I could control these giant waves of grief. Sorry sweet friends. So sorry Johnny.