Pondering

I got up with the baby. It's 6:51 a.m. She's back to sleep, but I'm staring at the window, now slightly illuminated by the early morning sky. 

I've come to hate first-morning light. I don't know what time Eli died, or how long he was out there, but I know it was between now and 8:30. When I put Ben back in his crib after nursing that morning, it was just starting to get light out. This time of day always reminds me of the day we lost him. And thinking about that makes me feel a heavy weight of guilt and regret that lurks somewhere beneath the surface of who I am...

This early morning light also signifies the start of a new day...having to live another without him, new possibilities (will my remaining children die?). 

And somewhere, among all that negativity somehow, there is hope...hope of the things God will bring about with a new day. 

I miss my son so much. I wish God would give him back to me.