What Fall Means Now

I used to love the fall season. I loved the smell of it in the air. The anticipation of the crisp cool weather that brought with it apple picking, and cider, pumpkin picking and trick or treating, and my Halloween birthday. I loved to watch the leaves change and honestly be mystified by how beautiful they were. I looked forward to yummy Thanksgiving with my husband, L/C, mom, dad, sisters and nieces and nephews. Fall was always the season I looked forward to the most.

You know what fall means to me now. Pain. Pure and utter pain. It was the time I was so happy to find out I was pregnant with Devyn, and the time I found out that my precious baby boy was sick. It is the time that reminds me of how helpless I felt to save my son, searching and searching for something to find hope and some way to save him, finding help, and then him dying before I could get him to that help. It is the time that I really found out who my true friends were, and also found out that some whom I thought were my friends, chose to ignore me because THEY felt uncomfortable. It is the time where I really began to feel that I really did not matter to God because how could He play such a cruel joke on someone like that. I wanted my baby so very badly, and he was given to me and then taken away. Where can the rationale for that be?? Fall is the time I had to go through the pain of labor knowing I would not have my son come home with me in the end. Fall is the time when I found out that mommies and daddies have to make arrangements at funeral homes for their babies. Fall is the time when my life and my heart broke in to a million pieces.

Is fall my favorite season anymore?? I don't think so.