It’s 6:27 AM, September 26th. Time just keeps passing by, and I want it to stop. Whenever I feel as though I’m having a “good” hour- I feel guilty.
I’m not ready to be happy. How can I be?
I don’t even know how to sort through my thoughts this morning. They’re literally all over the place.
But completely consumed by Scotty.
I love him so, so much. It’s so painful how much I love him.
Steven and I go into Lyla’s room as she’s sleeping to pray near her every night before coming to bed.
Last night I didn’t. And the night before my prayer turned to anger.
I would pray thanking God for giving me a healthy body to carry my babies. For blessing us with such healthy babies.
Every day this was my prayer.
He failed me.
I’m so angry as to why He did this to me and my family.
But then I think. Maybe he saved Scotty from any suffering. Maybe all this suffering, pain, and sadness is all for Scotty.
I would have done anything for him.
I still will do anything for him.
That’s what you do for your children.
As my father-in- law told Steven, and I’m holding onto these words, Scotty went so pure and so perfect that he is literally the son of God.
My baby was perfect- in every way.
I just wish I could hold him, kiss him, and whisper how much I love him in his ear.
But for now, we keep chasing those evening skies looking for our Scotty.