No parent should have to plan a memorial for their child.
No parent should have to decide – burial or cremation?
No parent should have to pick out an outfit for their child to wear the day of their memorial, to brave the nursery to pick out a few stuffed animals and blankets to fill their child’s crib that is standing in for a casket.
No parent should have to keep an eye out for something to use as an urn for their baby.
No parent should have to write a tribute to their child after just three days spent with them.
No parent should have to say goodbye to their baby without ever hearing them cry, without ever seeing them open their eyes.
We have to do these things.
Life is not fair. We live in a cruel world, where the greatest joys can turn into the greatest sorrows in a matter of moments.
But there were so many moments of joy with Hudson.
The morning of our daughter’s memorial, the Hubs and I lay in bed talking before facing the day. The Hubs said: “Today’s going to be brutal, but lets try to make the things we focus on and the things we cry about the happy things, the memories we made, the love we have for Hudson.”
That’s what we have to do.
Remember the magic of creating a life.
Look forward with hope to Hudson’s baby brother, baby sister.
This parent has to cling to a husband who is a rock and a better man and father than anyone I know.
This parent has to aspire to being a better version of herself, to be the best version of herself, for Hudson, for the Hubs, for an amazing family who has been so supportive.
This parent has to live better, remember the best and cherish the millions of tiny memories.
No parent should have to live in the misery of missing what could have been.
This parent is choosing to live in the hope of what is, in the hope of what will be.