When I went off to college they (and I have no idea who “they” were) warned me that a weird thing was about to happen: I’d have a week or so where being away from home felt exciting, like I was on vacation, and then the newness would wear off and it would sink in that I was here for the long haul, which would feel weird and maybe scary. And while all of us in the dorm said we were having the time of our lives, somehow we all knew exactly how many days there were until fall break. Hmm.

The last week or so has been rough for both of us, and I suspect we’re starting to realize that the last few weeks weren’t a break from our lives; they are our lives, and that we can’t flee this dorm on fall break because there isn’t one. Over time our grief will change, maybe even lessen. We’ll continue to find comfort and support from family and friends. Maybe we’ll even find ways to turn grief into something constructive. But the grief will always be there. Wherever life takes us now, it’ll take us there without our babies, and that’s going to feel weird and scary.

We’re here for the long haul.