Like A Sack of Bricks.

Is there anything in your life that ever hits you like a sack of bricks? Something that has the ability to make it hard to think, hard to see, hard to breathe? There's something like that in my life.

When my husband looks at me, with tears in his eyes, and says "I miss her. I miss Anna. I come home, and there should be a two year old little girl running to the door to greet me."

That is my sack of bricks.

I would do almost anything to do that for him. For him to have a little girl here on earth to hold and to love.

When he tells me how much he misses her, and how he feels like he "shouldn't" because he never got to meet her or hold her or know her, it takes everything I have just to keep breathing. And I am so thankful. I know women who have lost babies, whose husbands weren't really impacted. I am thankful this grief isn't mine alone. Thankful that we share it, and are drawn close in the midst.

But how I wish I could take this pain from him. Ease the ache that brings the tears.

It doesn't happen every day. Not even every week. But every once in a while, it hits him. And it hits me. Like a sack of bricks.