It’s Friday night (November 20, 2015) I’m looking out my window at the freshly fallen snow that’s about a foot deep. The reflection from the Christmas lights on the snow almost lights up our entire backyard. It took my breath away and I can’t stop looking out the window. I can’t stop looking because earlier today I saw the joy in Jack’s eyes when he saw the snow and it made him laugh. It made him so happy, he laughed. All of a sudden, I saw the snow with a different set of eyes. It made us slow down today, something we don’t often do.

This week I had time to think. To sit down, all by myself, and take the time to reflect. It’s not often we get the time to do this. More likely we rush out the door for work, give kisses and hugs to our kids and spouses that are much to short, work our tails off at our careers during the day only to come home, put supper on the table and try to cherish the two-ish hours we get with our children, put them to bed, try to get a few things done while they’re sleeping and crash for the night. Only to do it again tomorrow. Believe me when I say I am thankful to be blessed by the days I’m given and the craziness that lies within them. But that’s not my point-how often do you sit by yourself and think? As an extrovert, I don’t do that very often.

On Wednesday, I was home by myself for the entire day. Andy was at work and Jack was at daycare. This is the type of day you secretly dream about so you can catch up on Scandal or deep clean the house, whatever tickles your fancy. This wasn’t a scheduled PTO day.  I should have been at work , but the day and a half before I was in the hospital unexpectedly. On Thursday, November 12th, we got the news. The baby we were expecting in June wouldn’t be coming home to us. We hadn’t heard a heartbeat two weeks before but we had hoped there would be a different outcome since they thought it was too early to hear during the first ultrasound. You’re numb, when they tell you there’s nothing there. How can it be? How can it be that the baby you already had names for and imagined Jack being a big brother to just be, gone?

Come to find out, miscarriages are pretty common. 1 in 4 to be exact. When you experience it, it doesn’t feel common. It feels the opposite of common. At an appointment on Monday, my doctor told me that it seemed by body was taking care of things naturally and I’d have weekly labs until my HCG levels were back to normal. So, I left the doctor’s office and two and half hours later I was in the ER with unexpected complications. I’ll spare you the details but I’ll go on record saying it was one of the scariest nights of my life and ultimately needed a procedure to save my life.

By Tuesday afternoon we were home. Back to reality. On Wednesday, Andy went back to work and Jack went to daycare so I could stay home and rest. It was the first day in many that I sat down and thought. My mind replayed the last week over and over. I imagined what he or she would have looked like and who they would have become. My heart swelled and hurt at the same time thinking about the wonderful big brother Jack would be. I found peace knowing that my sister got to wrap her arms around him/her before we did and that I’ll get to meet that precious soul on the other side. Since my sister’s passing I’ve spent a lot of time figuring out how to fill time so I didn’t have to think. Because sometimes when you allow yourself to reflect, those pesky emotions come right along with it. I’ve learned feeling those emotions are just part of the healing process. Whether we like it or not, they show themselves in one form or another and it’s best that we just allow them to happen.

My sister would have been 28 tomorrow. As I sat and watched the snow fall tonight, the sparkling snowflakes reminded me of her and many of her birthdays we spent at home due to winter weather. I’m thankful now that I got to be there for those birthdays. It made me smile as I remembered that she couldn’t handle surprises so she usually tried to sneak around to find her gifts before (or while) they were wrapped to peek at what they were. I remembered how much she loved Barbies and pumpkin pie and always knew how to make me laugh (or mad). I thought about who she’d be today and wondered what her 28th year would have brought her. She would have made an amazing wife and mother. I only wish I could have seen her experience those things and been by her side every step of the way. This life is so fragile. There’s no denying it can change in a blink of an eye. It’s easy to get caught in the “busy trap” and not take time to slow down and reflect. But if we don’t, we’re missing moments. We’re missing time to let ourselves heal from pain and re-live the joys.