at about this time, I watched my husband take his final breath. I was lying next to him (as best I could with a fresh c-section incision) in the hospital bed. It happened so subtly I almost couldn't tell that he had actually died until the nurse said, "He's gone." I still remember her name...Natalie. She was so sweet. You could see her whole body deflate when she learned that Chris was not only the father of a newborn but a 17 month old as well. There was a moment where she seemed to think that Chris was reacting to stimuli and she paged a doctor. I felt a flicker of hope even though I knew it was highly unlikely. Sure enough, as quickly as the flicker of hope was lit, it went out as she realized he was still non-responsive. You could tell she really, really, really wanted him to live. Almost as much as I did.
I woke up this morning with an almost physical aching for Chris. I had a dream about him but I can't remember the specifics. I forgot that today was 18 months until my mom reminded me. I guess my body remembered.
This is us without you, Chris. 18 months...we miss you.
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