My Husband

My husband.

My love.

My light.

My breath.

My hope.

My heart.

My soul.

My support.

My everything.

It is common knowledge that experiencing a life altering tragedy such as losing a child tests the strength of a couple. Men and women grieve much differently which often leads to couples migrating further and further apart... not being able to connect... not being able to love and remember together.

My husband and I have experienced the opposite. We vowed in the very beginning of our journey that we would not become one of those statistics. That we would respect each other. Support each other and talk openly. It's been difficult. It's been tumultuous. It's been seemingly impossible to navigate through our grief at times, but we are doing it. We are choosing to love and remember Nicholas together. We are choosing to love and hold each other, no matter what.

It's not easy. Our life path together has certainly taken a turn (or a dive off a cliff) that we were not expecting. Somedays it's as if we must hold on for dear life to just get around the corner. The road is slippery. There is fog in the air and those potholes seem to jump out when we least expect them to. But there is also blue sky ahead. Blue sky and beautiful, white, marshmallow clouds and sun that remind us of Nicholas and what he means to our family. My husband and I constantly remind each other of that. We choose the blue sky. We choose the sun. Nicholas would want it that way.

I am striving to be the mommy that I would be to Nicholas if he was here, with us. Sure, there are tears, there is enormous guilt and longing every day. There is a constant ache in my heart that I am learning to live with. The grief, just like Nicholas, will be with me forever, but I am learning. I am determined to be someone Nicholas and our other boys will be proud of. Someone they can learn from. Someone they can count on. Someone they can trust...

None of this would be possible without the love, guidance and understanding of my husband. For the most part, we speak the same language. We have brought each other through the absolute, most terrifying days that we will ever experience together. Those moments are profound. They were life changing moments that we struggled through together. There is an intimacy between us that no one will ever get close to. He was there... through it all. Holding my hand. Holding his son's hand. Holding my heart as part of it walked through the hospital door.

Nicholas' daddy hurts. He misses his youngest son with the same passion that I do. He has said to me before; "you had months to get to know Nicholas while he was growing in your womb. When our world fell apart, I had two hours to get to know him and say goodbye." What a true, raw statement. I agree... and although many say that it is "harder" for a woman to grieve the loss of a baby because of these visceral connections, I say it's just different. It's so very different. Daddy's hurt just as deeply. They hurt for the loss of their child. They hurt for their wife who is enduring the worst possible type of physical and emotional pain. They hurt for their families. They hurt because there is absolutely nothing they can do to stop the inevitable heartache to follow.

I love you babe, more than I can express here. We are grieving the deepest kind of loss possible and we are doing it together. Your strength guides me and holds me up. Your commitment to our family is unshakable, and for that I am truly grateful.

The next few weeks leading up to Nicholas Angel Day, November 7 are going to be tough. They are going to rocky and full of a spectrum of emotions. However, I am confident that there will be days filled with sunshine and big, puffy, marshmallow clouds too. I look to the sky and I can almost see him.... hope you can too. Let's look up together.

xx