Journal Entry: 2

It’s 5:33 AM, September 24th. We’re home. Last night Steven and I put Lyla to bed and climbed in our own. I had no idea how I would sleep- but I did. And I almost feel guilty for the six hours of sleep that I got.

The pain when I wake up? Unbearable. You know what is awful about grief? Having to live and be reminded of your hell each time you wake up. (That goes for just those one hour power naps too.)

Oh my sweet baby boy, what I would do to be with you.

I can’t tell you how many times I have thought and cried to Steven that I wanted to go with Scotty.

I am so scared to think of him being alone. But the truth is, he isn’t.

It’s hard and it’s so incredibly painful, but Steven and I are holding onto any bit of hope.

Any sign of God.

Yesterday we did something we’ve never, or haven’t done in forever, watched the sunrise from our hospital room. And later in the day, we watched the sun set.

We actually chased this sunset. I could see just a portion of its beauty from the closed blinds in my darkening bedroom, and told Steven that we had to chase it.

And we did.

We never found a perfect clearing but this sunset was everything we needed, and we found some peace looking to the clouds.

Nobody can say the right things. There’s nothing anybody can do to take this pain away.

We are miserable.

We are grieving.

The outpouring of love and support is with us and we read the messages. Is it bad that I want people to feel our pain? I guess I don’t want to do this alone.

But the truth is, only Steven and I can feel this pain. Scotty is our son.

I’m mourning the loss of my baby that I carried for months.

I felt him move, his daddy and sister felt him move, and he was so apart of our family. He is our Scotty.

We started making preparations in our home for him.

We have clothes that some friends generously gave us stacked in totes in our entry way for him.

But his little body didn’t come home with us.

Instead, we brought home his memory.

It’s crazy how these tiny humans, Scotty and Lyla, are carrying us through this.

Lyla through her sassy but sweet ways and Scotty through our drive to make his name be known. Because we know, this boy would have moved mountains if given the opportunity.

So here we go, into another day without our Scotty.

Steven sleeping in hospital

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