It Only Hurts When I Breathe

When I can breathe, that is.

When it doesn't feel as if the oxygen has been sucked out of the room.

I can tuck away the thoughts of Leila, but I still can't shake that empty, knot-in-my-throat feeling.

Is that how loss feels? Like you're slowly strangling on a frozen lump of tears?

And you just want to climb under the covers and go to sleep forever? Is that depression?

I wish I could go back to two weeks ago, and paid attention to my changing symptoms.

That I called the doctor when my spotting changed.

Or that I held my daughter until she went to Jesus' arms. Is that regret?

Is this ever going to end? Am I going to survive? Will I ever be happy again? Will I ever stop crying over that precious little girl? Will I ever go back to "normal"? Will I ever want to?


  1. Emily,

    Your words echo memories of a similar time in my life. I am so very sorry for your loss. Your sweet baby. What a beautiful name, Leila. There are not words, no advice I can offer. But I am praying for you right now and that God will be by your side at this very moment.


  2. Oh Emily!! The knot gets smaller in a few months. Not that there aren't many days where it sneaks up to choke you again, but it passes more quickly now than it did a few months ago. Depression is normal, and your hormones are slamming back into check instead of easing back in. I'm sure that hormones play a huge roll in the first month or so. Everywhere youturn right now is a constant reminder. The soft pudgy belly that no longer holds your baby, the swollen breast, the maternity clothes, the baby stuff, the sad looks, the flowers, the cards, the thoughts (since your brain "forgets" sometimes that there's no baby), the weight, the fantom kicks, the blogs... You'll have the regret, the fear, the what ifs that beat you down, the anger, the depression, the hysterics...but know that there wasn't a thing you could do about it. If God determined it was time for your daughter to "go home" nothing could stop that. Just remember that GOD created you, and all of the facets of grief...including the anger. He's so much bigger than us and any of this tragedy, and he can handle anything you hurl at him. Trust me, I continue to hurl such anger his way...and he continues to bless me. I remember feeling like it was a drive by shooting from God. A random act of cruelty. But I know now, most days, that God took Logan from me because this world was no place for him to be. I still struggle with why he was sent for those 6 short months and then so cruelly taken from me, and in his place was left fear and failure and a sorrow I still can not come to terms with. Why God chose to create life that month, with that bad egg. But then I also know that babies are a consequence of sex, and sick babies are a consequence of being human. It's not a punishment. We're not bad people. We didn't deserve to have a dead baby. It just happened. And it's horrible and unfathomable...but then so is so many other things in this world. I'd like to think that God saved Logan from a life time of pain and suffering. That God did what was best for my son, and I was just collateral damage. If my broken heart is the payment I had to give in order to keep my son from such pain...I pay it gladly. But I still ask God everyday why MY son had to be so sick. I think of you so often Emily. Keep breathing...your new normal will come soon and this gut wrenching horrible pain will become a dull ache you learn to live with, because you have to.

    Word Verification: pitivul (as in pittyful...ironic!)