And Then There Were Two

Sept 27 2016
I havent written in a while. I apologize. It has been a very...very...intense summer. There have been and continue to be so many changes I just havent had the time or the mental acuity to put pen to paper...or fingers to keyboard as it were.

The last post I wrote had talk of moving to Boise. That didn't happen but is still an open and ongoing discussion. Instead, in June I found out I was pregnant. It was a very emotional ordeal. So much guilt, so much anger, so much fear.  I didn't tell anyone for a very long time. I actually never told Khaily at all. I was afraid something bad was going to happen. I had a feeling. And unfortunately I was right. On August 27th at 11:20am after 26 hours of drugs and labor Kheatyn John was born sleeping at 16 weeks. He weight 2oz and was 5.5 inches long. Perfect baby boy. Ten fingers ten toes, all organs developed perfectly. It was a cord accident. It got twisted right near his belly button. I didn't even know that could happen. Now I spend a lot of time daydreaming about him and Khyri playing together. It put me back in a dark place, I am starting to come back slowly but...on top of losing him being awful it also brought back a lot of things from Khyri, making it double hard. The situations are so different but still so the same. When Khy died I came home to on the floor, clothes on the floor, a brand new box of diapers, breakfast she hadn't finished. With Kheatyn I came nothing. And for being so opposite...its the exact same pain. The exact same aching empty arms, the same longing, the same tears. Futures we won't have, lives I won't get to watch unfold. I will never know his sounds,  his likes or dislikes, the ferocity of his tantrums. I will never kiss an owee or remove vegetables from nostrils. So many 'nevers.'  They let me keep him overnight at the hospital...and before you get judgey and disgusted, imagine you were only given 24 hours to be with your baby. And that was all you were ever going to get.  I took it. I took ever second. I stared at him and memorized his features. I counted and recounted the fingers and toes. I prayed and cried and tried to understand how someone so perfect didn't get to live. And what I had done to deserve it again.

The funeral home came and took my baby away from the hospital. Again.

Khaily still doesn't know. Shoes seen pictures, she knows that tiny baby is in heaven with sissy and that they love eachother very much. She doesn't know its her brother. We will talk about it later. 5 is too young to know that pain twice. I can't look my little girl in the eyes and have 'that' conversation again. I can't do it.

Today...if he had somehow lived...he would be a month old. He would be prepping to be a tiny skeleton for Halloween. He would be keeping me awake at all hours. Instead he sits on a shelf next to a jar of rose petals from his big sissy's funeral. Sometimes I wake up and forget that I'm not pregnant anymore. Then it hits...and I curl back up with his baby blanket and cry.

October is coming again. The 18th will be two years without Khyri. Two years. 730 days. 17520 hours. It may as well have been 5 minutes. Every day it repeats in my head. Last year I painted car windows for awareness. This year I am so emotionally spent that i will probably spend the day in bed. I don't want to do anything. I just want to sleep.

Its intense summer.

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