Today Jack would be four months old. It is really hard to believe. Sometimes, it feels like this has been the longest summer of my life. Then there are times I cannot believe that it is already September. Each day is different, each day is challenging in its own respect. But I always find the 8th, 9th, and the 10th to be my hardest days. I relive everything again and I often wake up at the exact time Jack died on the 10th. It is like my body has a physical memory of him passing away. And it kills me to know that I was only a few rooms away, and I wasn’t there to hold him when he died. I just can’t let go of the feeling that he died without us. I know that the doctors and nurses were there but it is not the same. Not to me.

I know we have both come a long way in four months, but I still feel like we have so far to go. So many firsts to get through still. And I still have arms that ache to hold my baby. The physical work of grief is hard, exhausting stuff.

There is a lot of good though that has happened, especially within the last month. I finally took the jump and got Jack’s Day going, which I have been mulling over during my car rides into work every morning for quite a while now. And Dustin has gone back to school, which he seems to really enjoy. So I try to be grateful for those things, and I use them to keep me going. Sometimes its just really hard though, really, really hard.