Love is of all passions the strongest, for it attacks simultaneously the head, the heart and the senses.
Together we held our son, who was still born, in the middle of the night. You helplessly watched your daughter take her last breath on my warm bare chest. You were always calm, collected and stoic, although grieving in your own man way. As my world fell apart somehow you did not; I’m in awe of that each and every single day.
Difficult decisions and logistics were all part of your job. You calmly stepped out for phone calls.You spoke with the nurses and birth registry. You made the arrangements with the funeral home and met with them before I did, arranging the cremations and obtaining death certificates when insurance needed them. You worked out all the payments with whomever needed to be payed. Not one complaint ever crossed your lips through all those long, dark days.
As my body healed and my heart ached from the traumatic deliveries, you wrapped your arms around me and held my soul so tightly. We cried together many lonely nights as we grieved the path we envisioned. I think back in awe of the strength that you displayed, your determinations and wise decisions. You took off work for my follow-up appointments, made me dinner, and listened to all my fears. When medical bills arrived, you made sure they stayed out of sight, even when it didn’t prevent any tears. After long hours at work you would come home to me, a sad and broken woman.
You supported me when I quit nursing and went back to waiting tables. You encouraged me to go back to school and find myself again. You knew when to listen and when to challenge my reckless and crazy grit. You have been critical to my success, frequently squashing seeds of doubt – never wavering in your love and commitment to our pipe dream of one day having a family.
Each year when the dates roll by, you’re the only one to notice. You genuinely hug me, give me a kiss and sometimes flowers are in order. Late at night sometimes when my tears hit your chest, you sigh a deep, sad breath, before you kiss me for the night.
Some day we will tell the true story to our girls, all the sad and intimate details. The truth about our family story, not the Facebook fairy tales. I envision they will shed a tear for the children that came before, maybe grateful for the lessons we learned, or the ones we had in store.
Occasionally gratefulness flows over me with the sight of our stunning girls and I am almost thankful for our losses; these girls have changed our world. Life would be different without them and the visceral joy they bring. Yet still, a silent storm of sorrow leaves us constantly grieving.
Nowadays our life keeps us busy; love and laughter heals most of the pain. But the ache and sorrow never really leaves, it just simply hides away.
Thank you for your endless dedication to us and our tiny dream. The burden feels so heavy, but you’re so inspiring. You have gracefully carried more pain then most will ever know.
Thank You! It’s a gesture that I owe. Always know I am here for you and I see the true man you are, you are my husband, lover and very best friend.
Till death do us part.
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