I am staring at the computer screen right now. I don't know what to write. Not because I don't have anything to say, but because I don't know where to start. How do I even begin to explain what it is like to exist after the death of both my babies? Is it even possible? Some things can only be experienced I think. Grief is impossible to imagine because our imagination at its best cannot conjure up the depth of the pain grief inflicts on our heart. Grief can't be anticipated. It is impossible to brace yourself for impact. And it hits so hard you can't even believe you are still alive. That is the hardest part. Grief doesn't kill you. It lets you live to experience every single painful moment. It is relentless. Grief is like torture.
I had a particularly hard day. I was fixated for some reason on what color hair Aubrey and Ellie would have had. It really bothers me that I will never know if they would have been blond or brunette. It isn't that I prefer one over the other, I just wish I had more details to imagine them with. I want to see their little faces in my mind as they were intended to be instead of so sick and discolored and premature. What color eyes would they have? Would their hair be curly or straight? Would they have freckles? What would they sound like? I would give anything to hear them just once. A cry, a laugh, it doesn't matter to me. To have a memory of their voices would be so precious to me. I just want to know them.
I don't get to know them in this life as I want to, but they are waiting for me in heaven, and there I will get an eternity to know them perfectly. That is the only thing that gets me through these days. My grief is only temporary. It doesn't feel temporary. But it is. If I can just hang in there until then I will see them again. Our separation is not permanent. Until heaven!