Where I'm at: 6 months, 1 day

Exhausted. Emotional leads to physical exhaustion and I'm spent. Never did I think life would be this difficult. Loss is a brutal, brutal enemy.

This month marked 1/2 of a year from Andrew's birth/death and 6 months from when I used to be normal. To make matters worse as 6 months feels like quite the milestone (in the life of a live baby), the days occurred on the same days they did in December. December 4 was the day we went in for our final doctor visit--Saturday. We heard Andrew's heartbeat and left thinking we'd be giving birth any time! Sometime between December 4 and December 5, our son died. The next day, Sunday, I woke up and began feeling sharp pains in my abdomen. I was in labor and didn't know it until hours later when the contractions became unbearable. Hours later, we found out our son passed away. Today is a Monday and Monday was the first day without Andrew with us. In my body, in our arms. He was gone. GONE.

On the facebook front, I often want to announce this but realize those who should read it won't have access: If you have an infant, are blissfully pregnant and have never experienced a loss, or feel the need to talk about babies nonstop, I probably will not accept your friend request. I make no apologies.

It doesn't particularly help that this negative post is being written on a day just after a would-be milestone where our {large, empty} house was filled with lots of crying. I should've probably waited to write because I've got nothing positive to say. But this is where I am at today.

When I was on that hospital bed about to deliver my deceased child, I thought about wanting to immediately start over. I wanted to become pregnant as soon as possible. I wanted more children. I wanted to experience their bodies growing and kicking inside of mine and to know parenthood would not be too far ahead in our future. I was certain that a half of a year later, I'd be pregnant. I'm sitting here typing right now, at 6 months and 1 day without a child. Not pregnant and still at the exact same point I've been at for 6 months-- aside from not needing to be peeled off the couch from sobbing all day. I still do that quite regularly, but at least the blinds aren't closed. Of course when I see another person with a stroller walk by, I wonder why the blinds are still open and wish them closed again.

I'm feeling like my entire life in the last 6 months has been a waste of time and stagnant in nature. We've been distracting ourselves and managed to book up most of our summer weekends on distraction trips. Sometimes that makes matters better, and sometimes worse. We are out of our house and experiencing new things, but know that we'd rather be with Andrew. We'd rather be doing anything with Andrew over all these "fun" things we planned instead. We went for a nature walk yesterday and all I could think about was how wonderful it would've been to carry Andrew in the Bjorn or push him in a jogger. We would've taken photos and talked to him about all the animals, flowers, and trees. Instead, we just commented about how much we're missing out on.

I'm still distant from friends and my entire old life. I don't think that old life will ever be back and I guess in many ways I am okay with that. Because Andrew changed me. He changed us. Our house is looking more beautiful than ever but I could care less about any of that. I'd give it all up in an instant to just have Andrew here. A lot of people have said a lot of stupid things to me recently as 6 months marks a milestone. Many expect you to move on from here or to at least have a hope of new pregnancy. They are hoping we get pregnant, too, so I can be "fixed" and move on. So the old Brandy will come back. That's not how losing your child works. New babies, albeit wonderful, will never fill that gaping hole that Andrew fits.

I'm still very much devastated by losing my son. I still can't look at Parents magazines and still turn my head when I see babies on the street. I still avert my eyes at pregnant bellies and still refuse to attend baby showers. Being around newborns is nearly impossible. Seeing 6-month old babies is painful also, but since I only have one image of Andrew to remember, it's hard to even grasp what having a growing child would look like.

In some ways I feel like I was in a better place a few months ago and am now back in a slump. I was exercising and occupied and withholding sweets (which got me back into my size 2's and made me more health conscious). I'm thankful for my baby loss friends who literally get me through the days in knowing that what I feel is completely normal and acceptable. Knowing that I'm allowed to still cry and feel crushed by this pain. The only thing I am completely thankful for in this sadness is that my marriage is better than it's ever been (though it's always been pretty fantastic).

At 6 months and 1 day, I'm still surviving. Not sure about thriving, still, but getting myself out of bed every morning. Sorry for the downer, but it's right where I'm at in this moment.