Shickel Family

We were warned and prepared that people will say things that will be painful after Jack died. Things like "God needed another angel." Etc etc.  But honestly, I can ignore those cheesy cards or comments. I honestly don't remember them or who said what and there haven't been that many that struck a nerve. The more painful thing is to hear nothing. To hear nothing from people we love, who prayed, who carried us when Jack was alive. But silence now. Silence feels like it never happened. Silence feels like they think we are the same people we were July 11th.  I don't want to ignore that it is hard to know what to say. I get it. I am sure I have said nothing when I should have at least said "I'm sorry. And I love you." But the kids discipline line "If you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all" does not apply here. There are no "nice" words when a life has ended far too early.  It is Pregnancy and Infant

  Grief feels lonely and stagnant. It makes me want to yell in everyone's face "YOU HAVE NO IDEA." Thankfully, I haven't done that yet. I don't think anyone deserves that. But even using the word "deserve" annoys me. Did we deserve to have our son pass away? To live through the excrutiating 31 days in the PICU all for him to not survive? To return home without a baby? To forever feel like someone is missing? No.  Am I the only one who has ever lost a son? No. Of course not. Instagram heart warrior moms have graciously reached out to share their story and sorrows show me that I am not alone. Mary herself lost her son, Jesus. Elizabeth lost John. Job lost every single one of his children.  Nancy Guthrie wrote Holding on to Hope after her first child passed away from a rare disease that impacted every cell in her body and slowly all her systems shut down around 6 months old. She writes about Job's faithful heart, amongst sorrow and suffering he never o