One week.
At exactly this time, last Sunday, I was falling to the floor in the labor and delivery wing. I was told I lost my baby girl. And I was told I might lose my own life too.
I thought about how I hadn’t even said bye to my boys when I walked out the door. That I couldn’t remember the last time I told Brandon I loved him. I asked for my mom like a child who skins their knee and needs someone to tell them it’s going to be ok.
All I could think of was that I was going to leave my family without a mom. And I wasn’t going to get a second chance to love my family. I’m not only dealing with this grief that will never end. But with the fact that I am now living on borrowed time. The physical wounds are healing, but the real pain is in my heart. And it will never heal.
Everything can change in an instant. And it did last Sunday. Now instead of counting down every Monday for the last 4 weeks, we count up since last Sunday. One week.
with love, lissa