Today

I am all poured out like water, and all of my bones are out of joint.  My heart has turned to wax; it has melted away within me.  My strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth; you lay me in the dust of death.  - Psalm 22:14-15

I have found such comfort in the Psalms throughout this past month, and I read this verse almost every night.  It reminds me how truly physical grieving is.  I have experienced back ache, head ache, of course heart ache, and I have a hard time feeling anything some days.  Most of the time, I feel like God ripped my heart right out of my chest when He took my baby.  Why did He even give me such a precious gift if He was only going to take it away in 18 months?  This pain - it is so unbelievable and unbearable, it is hard to imagine anything good will become of it.  

Zac and I were ordered to go on a "date night" by Dr. Gil.  We trouped off to our favorite restaurant and ate our favorite dishes.  We tried to avoid talking about Webb at first, but then we started talking about how much fun we had on our beach trip with him in August and how much he loved his yellow football we got him in the gift shop.  And we talked about how we loved the way he would put his arms in the air and say "Up," in such a clear, perfect voice when he wanted to be held.  And we talked carefully about the hospital and our three awful days there.  I find it hard to imagine there will be a time when we don't talk about Webb, and this brings me comfort because I know we'll never treat him as though he did not exist.  However hard it is to talk about, no matter how much the ache in our hearts resounds at the mention of these memories, to forget him would be even more painful.  So we will not.

We still have such a long, winding road ahead of us, but Bo and Whit are the glue that is keeping us together.  Whit is growing up so much every day, and while he still looks just like his twin, he is starting to do things and say things and get to a stage Webb never got to.  What would Webb be doing and saying today?  It breaks my heart to think of this, but in the same moment I thank God we have Whit to give us a glimpse into what he would have been.  I know our wounds will never fully heal, but we will get through this.  We have to.  And while Webb is waiting for us, I hope he inspires us to be better people and parents than we ever thought possible.  That is the legacy his little soul can leave.  So while I know our reward will be to spend eternity with him, I only hope when I get there he is proud of the person I became after he left us.  That is what keeps me from going over the edge, that and the promise I will hold him in my arms again one day.  I have a feeling when I get to heaven I won't let Webb out of my arms for a very, very long time.