So of course after this happened I heard a million times how "it will get better with time". Well, I am afraid that of course I am the odd one out because it is NOT getting better. As a matter of fact it may be getting worse. I feel like I have lost my mind and my will to live. I feel like a shell of a person just walking around pointlessly looking for something I can never have. I think that every minute is farther away from the last time I had my son with me. I will never forget the horrible pain the first night in the hospital was filled with, and not physical pain. The pain of being separated from your child for the first time, and never getting him back. I am consumed with racing thoughts of how things should have been. How fucked up my "life" is now. John and I aren't getting along too well of course statistics don't lie do they? Everything has fallen apart for me this year when this was suppose to be the happiest and busiest time in my life I feel apathetic and empty. I can't fathom how it will ever "get better". I can only imagine getting number to the pain. Even then, I am still just a shell, nothing left inside anymore. I died when my son did, just not physically.