It's 12:09 am as I start to write this blog on the day that was to be Jonathan's due date. The day that I had looked forward to since March 17, they day I found out for sure that I was pregnant with him. It had all seemed so perfect--finding out we were pregnant on St. Patrick's Day (what luck!) having the baby just before Thanksgiving! What more could we have to be thankful for on Thanksgiving that our precious baby? But later on today, I won't be in a hospital having my baby, I will be going to the cemetery to visit him, born almost four months ago. I still just don't get it. I don't understand why this was a part of God's plan. But this is what it is, and I will do my best to continue trusting Him.
But I still miss my baby. My arms ache for him, my heart longs for this to all be different. If only I could see him looking at me, breathing, crying. Would he have looked like Justin did as a newborn? Would he have had a full head of dark hair? Would he have been a big baby like I thought he was going to be? Would he have already been here? I wish I could have seen the look on Justin's face when he saw his son for the first time, holding him close with the promise of a future together. What would it have been like to have my first son gaze into my eyes and calm down when I held him close? I will never know these things and it breaks my heart.
I miss my sweet Jonathan every day. I know that pain will never go away, but maybe it will begin to ease now that I am not supposed to be pregnant with him anymore.