We felt it all. Then we felt some more.
I thought it was done. We got pregnant quickly after that night. Our son is the most beautiful little human I’ve ever laid eyes on. How can I be sad over her when he wouldn’t be here, if she was? It’s all too much to think about. Too complicated for my heart. Our hearts.
I thought we had dealt with losing her the night we gave her a name. And then that 30-second clip opened up the floodgates. We held each other the way we did that night. We said things that made me realize this bit of grief will always be a little too close to the surface.
We’ve been through a lot in the last year. Our son’s health is complicated. We almost lost him, too. I went to bed last night with the look on my face I haven’t seen in a while—my nose so swollen that it gives validity to that 8th grade bully who called me Ms. Piggy, my eyes so red, that it makes my iris appear to be an eerie shade of blue—a sight I’m sure would frighten my kids.
I’m so tired of seeing that face staring back at me.
So, I just can’t do next week’s episode. This is Us creators, I appreciate you bringing some needed realness to Television. Really, thank you. But some things in life are too damn hard to re-live.
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This article originally appeared at News Anchor to Homemaker.
