Today marks one month since I delivered Calvin. One month ago his little heart had stopped. One month ago he was no longer in the safety and coziness of my womb.
I miss him. I miss the girls kissing my belly and telling Calvin goodnight and whispering, I love you, Calvin into my belly button. I miss feeling his body nestled against my hips.
It feels harder today, to know that our baby didn't get to be healthy. That our baby didn't get to come home. Mostly I don't like to ask, "Why did this happen to us?" because I feel like it implies it should have happened to someone else. Mostly I don't feel angry, because I know God didn't "do" this. Mostly I just feel sad that things couldn't have been different.
Tomorrow Adam and I are meeting with our church to formalize the memorial service planned for this weekend. I can't quite wrap my head around the idea that we are planning a service for our dead son. But I am glad we can do this, have a service for him. Have a service for us, really.
I miss him today. Just like I missed him yesterday and just like I will miss him tomorrow.
I love you, little guy. I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. But I do love you, so very much.