The hardest thing I've ever had to do....

...is letting go. And honestly, I still haven't. Today is the one year mark. One year ago today, I sat in my doctor's office alone and was told that my baby no longer had a heartbeat.

It still doesn't seem real. Stuff like that happens to other people, right? Not to me, not to my family. I've spent a year sorting it out, or trying to. I haven't done a very good job. I've felt myself spiraling downward the last week or so...thinking of that day, and the next, when I delivered. Tomorrow is Andrew's birthday; had he been full-term and lived, I'd be having party. Instead I plan to go visit his grave.

I wonder how I look to other people. Can they see the huge hole that's still in my heart? Does it show that I still cry every day? I've had another baby since then...my beautiful Jacob, my wonderful boy who brings me so much hope. But sometimes when I look at him, I feel like I've betrayed Andrew; almost like I tried to replace him. I didn't....my rational mind says that, but sometimes those thought creep up on me and start eating at the still-tender spot where all of Andrew's memories are. And the hurt is there all over again.

In the last year, I've had the occasion to be around several people that have lost loved ones. What I always tell them is this: It NEVER gets better, but it does get easier. Right now, however, that feels like a lie. It's not easier, at least not yet. I hope, in time, it will...but not yet. Right now, my heart still hurts, and my arms still ache because they want to hold him. Jacob has helped that ache a bit, but then the guilt kicks in and it hurts all over again.

For now though, I am trying. I am trying to be a rock, a solid foundation for my family. To take care of the ones I have here, and to focus on bringing us all back together for eternity.