A Pit in my Stomach

That pit that sits at my throat.

2 years ago, I cried out in pain that I needed for my son to be born because of the pain I was in.

I would give anything to go back to that night, and pray that we still had weeks left.  Years left.

There are moments that the days are easier.  Then there are the moments that still take my breath away, and wake me from a sleep gasping in disbelief.

Reliving these moments that are so very clear, as if they happened yesterday.  Vivid and engrained in every fiber of who I am, that will remain with me wherever I go.  

We still forge ahead, determined to keep living and loving.  Determined to make a difference.  Determined to change lives, for the better.

That will always be our reason to press on.  Too many people hurting and going through hardship after hardship, without hope.  We keep going to offer that hope.

Still though, today, this week, and next, the pit in our stomach remains, and feels more fresh as we reflect on our sons too short life.

Remembering those sweet days as he rambunctiously rolled and kicked inside of me.

So loved and wanted.  Now, so missing from this family, but never far from our hearts.