Unshed Tears

Morris,

I hardly ever find time to write anymore.  That's probably because I rarely have a moment to myself anymore, and when I do, I usually take advantage of it by going to bed early.  This morning, as the rest of the house was still sleeping, I made myself a cup of coffee and I got an urge to write you.

I miss you.  Lately that feeling has overwhelmed me more times and in more places than I can count.  The grocery store. The car as I'm driving somewhere. The doctor's office. The football game. Our home. So many moments in the last few weeks when I've suddenly found myself thinking of you and hit with a familiar sting of unshed tears. No "triggers" seem to prelude these moments, like a sad song or memory, just me being in normal, everyday places where you should be but aren't.

Your brother and sister are getting so big. Someone asked us the other day how old they were and I replied, "They just turned a year," at the same time that Daddy replied, "Almost 13 months."  I gave him a funny look and was about to correct him when he reminded me that they will be 13 months in just a few days.  It's crazy how fast time flies.

I had a horrible dream the night before last.  Daddy and I had gone somewhere, and when we went to pick up your brother and sister from wherever they were, Baylor wasn't there.  I immediately knew somehow that someone bad had her and I was crying, panicked, and distraught. I was begging others in the dream to help me find her, but they kept telling me that she would be okay and whoever had her would bring her back.  I woke up from the dream before I could find her, and I was physically sick to my stomach and upset.  I looked at the monitor and Baylor was peacefully sleeping, but I went into the nursery anyway and brought her and Griffin to our bed. I loved and kissed on them all morning.  I am still sick thinking about the evils that exist in this world, and I will continue to pray that our family is never touched by them and pray for the families that sadly have been.

I think this dream is just a symptom of the heightened anxiety that I've felt lately.  There is so much sadness and scariness in the world right now.  I try to avoid the news to save myself additional worry and anxiety. I remind myself that God is in control no matter what happens and that He has a plan. If I'm honest, there days when neither of those tactics work. It's an ever present battle for me.  Bringing two more innocent children into the world only gave me more to worry about, but I know they are worth it so I will continue to find ways to push through.

Our family had a new baby born into it a few weeks ago, and like I've done a few times, I went to the hospital to visit.  It's always difficult for me to walk back into the hospital where we said goodbye to you, but it's also healing to see new life there. As I was leaving, right before walking out the entrance door, I had a sudden urge to turn down the hallway and go to the room where I last held you.  When we delivered you, they gave us a room on a side of the ward that didn't seem to be used as often as it was farther away from rooms where other moms where delivering.  One of the distinct memories I have from that morning is walking past the nursery windows with the blinds pulled tightly shut (presumably so we weren't in a position to see any new babies) to our delivery room.  On the occasions we've been at the hospital since your birth, I've often had this urge to go to our delivery room.  This time was the first time that I actually tried to push through the big double doors that lead that way.  They were locked of course.  I thought about asking the nurses if the room was in use, but as the tears began to build, I quickly exited to my car where I had a good cry.  Maybe one day I'll step foot in that room again - not for closure, but to for the chance to feel as close to you for a few moments as I did the last time I held you.

Love,

Mommy