I don't know where to begin the thoughts are going a million miles an hour.. I can't sort through them enough to even focus on daily activity.. What's wrong with me? Am I going crazy, has everything finally made me slip over the edge of no return? I feel like I'm going insane, I thought by now I would not feel so crushed still. I thought that maybe laughter would come A LOT easier. It does come easier, but I was expecting it to be easier than it is. I know that probably doesn't even make sense but to me it does.

I seem to have fallen back down that dark pit wall as soon as Christmas was over. I am dreading yet looking forward to Tristan's birthday. I'm stressing on it, mainly because I'm inviting my mother and my father. They're going through a nasty divorce, so it's stressful to ask them to be around one another, guess we'll see how it goes.

A part of me feels silly for having a "birthday party" but then I get so mad at myself for having those feelings, it's not silly, he's my son.. I want to celebrate his life, he lived for a wonderful 33 weeks.

I remember those 33 weeks, I was so terrified to do anything. After our first 2 losses I felt so honored and so blessed that God had finally blessed us with a living baby, we just knew this baby was coming home, because we had made it past that most dangerous stage, we made it through the 1st trimester. The 2nd trimester was awesome, as my belly grew, the stranger my hormones were, I remember crying one day over the silliest thing, and for the life of me I wish I could remember that. I remember wanting barbecue sauce so badly that everything I ate I had to put bbq sauce on it.. Oh and lets not forget the cereal, he would just kick like crazy like he was the happiest baby ever!! I remember that every time I would try to get him to move for his daddy, he would stop!! I remember freaking out because he was getting the hiccups like every 5 minutes, the dr said that's cause he's going to have a strong set of lungs.. If only we'd of known?! I remember the day that he died, like it were yesterday, that was the FIRST and last time that he had ever woken me in a dead sleep kicking the crap out of me, I LOVED it!! He tumbled around til 10:30ish am, that was his normal time of a morning to calm down til around 2ish, but God had something else in store for our little Tristan that day.

I remember the whole day every grim detail like it just happened, I wonder if the memories will always be this detailed, and painful. I remember when Ms. Mary asked me if I would like to hold my son, and the feeling that rushed in me like honestly woman how stupid do you have to be to ask me if I want to hold my son?! I didn't fully understand, I was in complete denial, I didn't believe Dr. H when he told me there was no cardiac activity, no way, we had made it through the first trimester this couldn't be happening; so when Ms. Mary asked me that, I wanted to see for myself that he was alive, he wasn't/couldn't be dead. But he was, he was gone from our lives, our precious beautiful Tristan. I felt so much compassion at the moment Ms. Mary laid him in my arms, and she touched my hand as she handed him to me and told me that he was the most perfect, most beautiful baby that she had ever seen, and that the nurses all cried while bathing him because he was so beautiful, and they found the most perfect outfit for him, he looked so handsome, just like a little prince.

I can't believe and don't know how I've made it this past year without my son, but it hurts like hell. I think the pain is so much different now than it was even in the first weeks, the pain is so freaking different, yet, so much the same.