What I Wish For

I have found that there is a great difference in grieving someone whose life was cut short and grieving someone whose life never truly began. When I have grieved lost friends or family members there were memories and the past that I clung to. In grieving Omara there are no memories to hold onto or long to repeat; there is only a whole future that was lost and moments I am left wishing for.

I wish for the diaper changes and the spit up on my clothes. I wish for the sleepless nights and the unsolicited advice. I wish for skinned knees and all of the band-aids. I wish for every moment that I would have otherwise wished away. 

You never realize that these are the little moments you're going to feel cheated out of. I remember reading all of the blogs meant to prepare you for parenthood. They all had the same tone to them: prepare for EVERYTHING to change and to ALWAYS be tired. 'Well crap,' I thought, 'I am really going to miss sleep'. Except now, instead of missing sleep, I am missing the chance of being sleep deprived. Such a strange notion.