I posted this photo and text on social media this morning, and figured it deserved its own blog post as well.
October 11th, 2018: the day our world came crashing down. My 19 week ultrasound. Where we found out Clark was a boy but also that our sweet little guy wasn’t going to make it much longer. I cannot believe it’s been a year. An entire 365 days...8760 hours...525,600 minutes.
October is a tough month around here, and with it being Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month makes it all the more so. In less than a month last year our plans changed from what going home outfit we’d bring him home in to what funeral home we should send him to. I think I’ve been avoiding writing a post about Clark — just trying to keep myself and everyone else around here crazily busy so I wouldn’t have to face it. But this morning after after maybe 5 hours of restless sleep, I opened Timehop to mindlessly scroll through the October 11ths of years’ past, Clark’s ultrasound pic hit me like a ton of bricks.
Grief is funny: it comes and goes like a wave...sometimes a big massive huge gonna knock you off your boogey board wave, and sometimes it’s just a teeny tiny little ocean blip that barely splashes the shore. But it’s always there, and some days, much like today, it’s a storm surge sized wave that you haven’t seen in a long while.
We miss our Clark more than anything. What would he look like today? Would he have Patrick’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows? Rosie’s infectious giggle? Annie’s amazing side-eye?! We can only imagine.
We will celebrate Clark’s first birthday just 6 days before we meet his little brother or sister...our rainbow after the storm — never a replacement, never a do-over. A little one hand-picked from above to hold here and help us weather those waves whenever they come up. Because this sweet new babe will never ever replace our Clark, but we hope that he or she will bring us what we ached so much to have here with Clark, as he instead continues to watch over us from above 💙🌈