Quiet.

We have a nightly routine.

1. Turn on the little fan.
2. Turn on the top fan.
3. Turn on the noise maker.
4. Set the sleep timer on the tv....leave an I Love Lucy dvd playing.....

That's how we fall asleep every night.

The other night, I commented to Jeremy, amidst all the noise in our room, "It feels like there is something missing. It's quieter than usual." In the back of my mind, I knew exactly what was missing, but at that moment, I couldn't come to grips with what my heart was saying.

Tonight, we had our same nightly routine. I had the same thought, "too quiet." I looked to my right, and I visualized what was missing. Ayden.

We started out with a co-sleeper and a humidifier. He was right next to me all night. He didn't make a lot of noise, but his presence sure did. As he got bigger, the co-sleeper was traded for the pack'n play, which was pushed against the bed...flush with the matress. He was always within arm's reach.

Our lives are too quiet. I don't rush home from work because I come home to a quiet house. A house I don't recognize anymore. A house with baby things still in their place. His swing is where we left it. The gate is still up in the hallway. His room is basically still untouched. We just recently rearranged the pictures on the coffee table....only so that when people come to view the house, they don't mess them up. I go through my "routines" feeling such a void. I hate having time on my hands.....absolutely hate it. And I hate, even more, having to find ways to occupy my time. I adored spending every minute I could being a mom....being a mom to Ayden. He fulfilled my life so much, and then that life was taken away. And we're left to endure the quiet.

Ayden would have been ten months old today. TEN MONTHS. Our house should be filled with laughter, jibber-jabber, and sweet baby squeals. He should be saying, "Da-da and ma-ma" and pointing at things. He should be all over the place....into everything. But it's just too quiet.

I know our lives won't be like this much longer. God-willing, this new child will be with us in 5 and a half short months. But even then I'll be thinking about how I should be mothering 2 of them. I should have both of them. I can't help but think of all of the parents who have lost children and how quiet their lives are as well. It is such a miserable feeling. It's isolating and depressing, and sometimes I don't know how we push through each day. I don't know how we manage to find hope. I think God purposely blocks my mind at times. I know He does. There are moments when I look back at certain occurences and think, "Why didn't I meltdown? Why didn't I just break down right there in that moment?" God is trying to show me how to move forward and how to continue to believe in His goodness and to cling to hope. And for the most part, I feel like I'm doing a pretty good job. No, I know I am. But I still have moments.....like these....when I can't sleep without having to write down everything in my head. Otherwise, I'd become consumed with it all....and I can tell you I wouldn't be in a good place.

I've mentioned before that work has caused me to push the meltdown moments aside. I have to compartmentalize everything. I have to keep this separate from work. I know I don't HAVE to, but I need to. I would be useless with my students if I didn't. I'm already doing as well as I can with them. Some days, I feel like I'm barely keeping them with me.....like I'm always missing some of the details leaving them a little lost. Thank goodness they're good kids and they pick up what I might have missed anyway. Everyone at work has been very gracious and encouraging...complimenting me on jumping back in and moving forward. Sometimes that leaves me wondering if I did this too soon....if I didn't allow myself enough time. But it feels right....for now. At least until June, I feel like it was good for me to get back into working. After June, I have so much more to look forward to. Namely - a more non-quiet life.

So many people yearn for quiet, silence, peace. I just want the sounds of my happy, healthy children surrounding me.....forever. It'll be sad to always look at them and see the one who is missing, but we have to change our perspective and realize that we're missing him, but he isn't missing us. We should be sad for ourselves because we're here waiting to be taken to be with our Father and our loved ones. He is waiting for us, anxiously, and when we see him again it'll be as if we had just seen each other the day before. And then we'll fully understand the "whys," and we will rejoice that he was in such a beautiful place all this time.....only knowing a perfect life.

Those thoughts help me get through the tough moments, and they're nice, but they don't always take away the pain. I want to learn to live with hope. I'm slowly getting there. This new child has already restored so much joy and hope that was lost when we lost Ayden. We'll never have what we want most - just to have him back with us - but God will continue to bless us in His way.

Please pray for those families who are living in the quiet. Consider your life and how it would be if all of the "noise" in your life was suddenly taken away, and you were left feeling like a stranger in your own home....amongst you own family. Pray for the restoration of hope, peace, and joy in the lives of those who are struggling just to see past the grief and get a brief glimpse of what once was.....in whatever form they can imagine. Because while all is as it should be in your home - they're going through each day feeling as if "something is missing"....knowing it'll never be the same again. I pray that we all find God's blessing in all aspects of our lives....even the not-so-good ones.