The infinite sadness of the past week seems to have now been replaced by a vast and frightening emptiness. I am working hard to keep my head above water, but in my mind I am running a non-stop loop of the events of the past two weeks. Looking back, seeing all that led up to the moment late Monday night when I delivered a 3-ounce baby who had already left us, it now seems like, through that week, we were all caught on a runaway freight train that was rushing us into the awful despair that followed. As it happened, of course, we had no idea of what was coming. And it all seemed to happen in slow-motion at the time, though now I see it differently. Life, after all, can turn on a dime.
I am hoping to put pen to paper (or, in this case, fingers to keyboard) so that I can record my memory of that awful week, hoping that if I write it all down, that I will cease to replay everything over and over and over again. This may not be the appropriate forum for it, but it is all I have. The easy happiness and the flippant attitude with which I wrote previously in this blog is now gone. The Before Sarah is a completely different person from the unrecognizable After Sarah that I have become, at least temporarily.
We are no longer the caricatures that I wrote about before. The Southern Foodie, The Carnivore and The Odd Toddler are now simply Sarah, Preston and Ray. Reality just doesn't allow for humor right now.
I used to say that nothing bad ever happens to me. I sincerely miss the old me, the one who believed that would always remain true. I know now that the worst can happen, and it can come out of nowhere. If I do this right, I will come through on the other side without this current abiding fear that the worst can happen again.
I am having a hard time finding God right now, and God's comfort is completely elusive. I forget to pray. I forget to eat. This morning, I realized I had forgotten to breathe for a moment. I appreciate everyone's prayers, and we continue to need them desperately.