It's that time of year again. Where I try to stay as busy as possible and not think about anything.
And I do mean anything!
About 3 years ago, to the hour, we were told that our son's heart had stopped beating. They said our baby was dead.
Want to know the first thing out of my mouth?
Followed by tears.
These are the kind of tears that never stop.
That ultrasound was the hardest thing in the world. We were trying to make the choice between continuing the pregnancy and possibly having more serious health risks, or ending our child's life so that I could recover.
After that ultrasound, Arnold and I went back to the hospital room and cried. We cried and cried and cried. The tears didn't stop until hours after.
The hospital worked fast. We went to the delivery rooms and began to be induced. I got to shower and eat before our labour began.
Was it crazy for me to thank God? No.
I thank God that He was able to make the choice for Arnold and I. I could never, ever choose between my life and my child's. And Arnold knew that, my parents knew that, and they all knew what that would mean.
Eventually it would mean brain damage and death.
I still cry when I think about Otis. I was talking to a friend at school the other day and I teared up. I try not to break down.
Every year it gets easier. Last year I was crying in the hallway all morning with a good friend of mine. This year... I've made it through the day with only a few tears.
While this day, or even this weekend, doesn't mean a lot to people. It does to me. My friends have slowly forgotten about our son, but I know I haven't.
And it's ok. Totally ok. Not everyone has to remember everything. Just remember it's hard for me and my family.