Yesterday was a long day, as all days have been. I know I've said it before but each day feels like an eternity. I feel like I've lived a year in the past 10 days since we got the bad news that Jacob wasn't doing well.
Brian went to play disc golf yesterday afternoon. He was so cute, not sure if it was appropriate, and I said GO. Play a bit and put this away for a few hours. During the week he's been working while I stay home, and when he gets home he gets to deal with all this sadness. I figured with his one day off this weekend he should have a few hours to forget about all the tough stuff.
I spent some of that time sitting down and writing a letter to Jacob. It's only 6 or 7 pages handwritten, but I felt so much better having gotten the words out. I put it in an envelope with a memory box I've started, along with a studio picture of me that was taken in May: happy, glowing, and barely showing my baby bump.
There is so much to do and say, and so little time to do it in. I've been trying to get some phone numbers together for people to call, and getting ahold of the people who need to make those calls for us. I took out all the maternity clothes I can't bear to wear, and gave them back to the friend who gave them to me. The few others I received as gifts and bought myself are in a box as yet unknown as to what to do with them.
Today we go for an ultrasound for one last look at our boy. I want a good look at his heart, because I want to make sure it's as broken as they say, and I want my perinatologist to explain the intricacies of the problem so we fully understand it all.
Then, we move forward another step, wherever that takes us.