The End of Normalcy

   Normal. I'm not sure what that means anymore. It's been 3 weeks since the word normal lost its place in my vocabulary. I see people in stores with their shopping carts and I wonder, do they feel normal? Do they know I don't feel normal? Will I ever feel normal?
   I guess this is my "new normal". It's now normal for me to pick out flowers for my son's grave. To have to tell people my son died. To know that when I have another pregnancy everyone will be secretly wondering if the baby will live. To know I'll be wondering the same thing.
   I'm sure most people feel like this after a tragedy. Like the person they were is gone forever. I'm not only mourning my son's unfulfilled life, but the life I'd live if this hadn't happened. My whole way of thinking has been altered.
   Even in the midst of feeling like this I do feel hope starting to finally fade back into my life. Sometimes I can even feel joy. Like Sunday riding in the car with my husband. It doesn't mean that I don't still have moments where it's hard to breathe, but they're slowly becoming just moments.
  When I was having a moment something that helped me was what a kind friend said. Everyone has a story and unfortunately this is part of mine and my story is far from over. It helps to think of it that way, just a part of the story. I don't like how Carter James' exited but he'll always be my favorite part of my story.
   I hope that I can be a light for others in this type of darkness. Because otherwise this life taken from us feels in vain. It doesn't make his death make anymore sense but it's a way to honor his sweet spirit.