Coming Back

A new, dear friend asked the other day if I'd considered continuing to write here. It got me thinking, and though this blog was initially a space to share our journey with others, I feel it transitioning now to a different type of place. I'm aware that others may still be checking in and reading, but know that I'm writing for me, and for other babylost mamas who may stumble across this site, and feel free to end your journey with us here, if that feels right for you.

Tonight we're taking a trip back to the NICU. We'll go around midnight, so I'm hopeful we'll miss the exodus of parents leaving with babies in carseats that was so painful during Cayden's two weeks in the hospital. Walking in to see our sick baby, while blissed-out new parents left for home with their healthy babes, knowing that we would not be those parents, would not have that experience. Our first baby would never come home with us.

Walking into the NICU, hospital ID bracelets still circle our wrists, yet we don't really belong there anymore. Except we do, because that space was all that Cayden knew, where he lived his life, and because of that, it is one of the most important places in the world. I can't wait to see his nurse Erin, who will be working, because she knew our baby, she cared for him, she touched his little body. That's not true for very many people, and so she is very important to us. I'll spend the day baking for the amazing nurses who care for so many babies and so many families. And I'll try to keep my tears out of the batter, because no one likes salty cupcakes.