This morning is one week since we found out that our baby’s heart had stopped beating. The past couple of days have been full of painful reminders of how different things were just seven days ago.
Today I folded and put away the clothes I had on for what was supposed to be a check-up appointment. Yesterday I finally moved the small hospital bag my father-in-law brought to us from our living room to our bedroom closet. Still unemptied. The ID bracelets I wore sit upon my dresser, waiting their fate. I’m not certain they’re tokens I want to keep.
They say grief changes you. That you will never be the same again. This week I have been processing an overwhelming amount of feelings and thoughts. I couldn’t begin to articulate a post on grief yet, but for now it is enough to say that James is never far from our minds and our moods still yo-yo all day.
college days…hanging out in my apartment kitchen with friends
I remember one night standing in my tiny apartment kitchen, likely cooking up a delicious meal of plain canned green beans and packaged yellow rice, when Jeff made a pronouncement about his future wife-to-be, a purely abstract lady at the time.
His pronouncement led me to laugh in his face over his ignorant bachelor speeches.
Jeff in college… this picture had something to do with me falling for him
According to Jeff, before he married anyone, she would be requiredencouraged to take cooking lessons from his mother.
Now, I had never met his mother. But I did find a good bit of humor picturing him informing his fiancé that he had signed her up for “Mrs. Burns’ Culinary Cooking Camp”, or better put, “Lessons on How Jeff Expects to Keep Eating Once He’s Wed.”
And I told him so much. Gently, (can you be gentle while laughing?), informing him that his fiancé may not appreciate his request to be just like his mom.