Empty

I've been staring at a blinking cursor on a blank page for a few minutes now and can not, for the life of me, figure out what it is that I want to say tonight.  Honestly, I had hoped that we would be in bed by now but a combination of insomnia and a 3.5 year old who woke up covered in urine and vomit delayed that a bit.  It isn't that we aren't tired, because we are and we absolutely need the rest. 

But as long as I'm awake, I can find something to work on or something to do...anything to keep my mind busy.  I even rearranged our computer cabinet and organized our tax documents tonight because I ran out of legitimate tasks that actually needed completed right now.  It's just easier to keep making up excuses to stay awake than it is to decide to get some sleep.
 
When we start preparing to go to bed, that's when I start to feel the panic rise up.  In the dark, in bed...all I can think about is the baby that is supposed to be sleeping in the pack-n-play at the foot of our bed just like his sisters did.  It helps me remember what his weight felt like against my chest but that also reminds me that my arms are so empty without him.  Going to bed forces me to realize that I can roll over and sleep in any position I want because there is no longer a big belly or a baby forcing me to sleep on my side.  As much as I hate sleeping on my side, I loved feeling him shift around inside of me and feeling his little hiccups bounce around.  Now there is nothing there but the memory. 

Everyone has told us in these last months how incredibly strong we are ... tonight, I don't feel strong.  I feel empty.

I was looking for a quote tonight and this is what I found.  I want to believe it, with all my heart I want to believe that all of this grief and this pain is all for something greater.  On the good days, I am even comforted by the thought.  On the bad days, it's harder.  Today is one of the bad days...today, I just want my little boy back in my arms.