The windowsill in my room is quite wide…wide enough in fact, to sit a chair on it.

It sounds kind of odd, but we had a wicker chair that didn’t quite fit anywhere else in our house so we stuck it there.

This week that chair kind of became…my escape.

I haven’t wanted to leave my room, and lying in bed all day just makes a person feel awful.

So every day, I’ve gotten up…dressed my daughters, fixed breakfast, sent my oldest to preschool

And then curled up in my chair with a blanket and sort of lost myself for a while.

I’ve stared out at the greenery, watched the neighborhood kids ride their bikes back and forth, read my Bible, and spent much time in prayer.

I’m not sure why really. I’m not sad…or mad. Just full of thoughts.

Thoughts that I can’t even make sense of.


Three years ago today, I walked into a hospital to be induced into labor. I was a little over 35.5 weeks and would be 36 by the time I gave birth.

We were a little late.

I remember the nurses being agitated, but who shows up early to an event that you know will end your baby’s life??

Especially when it’s still moving inside you!!

Showing up at all was hard.

We were soon surrounded by people that loved us, and I remember smiling and laughing a lot because that’s what I do when I get nervous.

But the truth is, the memories are fading.


People say to me, “I can’t believe it’s been three years! It feels like just yesterday!”

I feel like it’s been three years, though. In fact, sometimes it feels longer.

It really feels so far behind me, and I can’t hold on to the memories because it’s different than losing a loved one that you’ve made years of memories with. This was just 12 hours.


With the anniversary of his “home going” approaching this week, my heart was just heavy and my head tired of trying to process it, so the chair became my place.


The window sill


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