It has been awhile since I last blogged, and to be honest with you, it is something that I thought I would never miss. To the contrary though - I have missed it quite a bit. I am not sure if it is the action of going through the day’s events in my head and allowing me to decompress, or if it was just the simple point of telling the world about something that I felt so passionate about. Regardless of what it is that I have missed, I am going to attempt to keep the blog alive. We have started a new chapter of our lives and I thought it would only be fitting that I started a new blog; the previous one was Reid's. There have been a lot of voids in our lives as of late (the obvious and the not so obvious), so I am hoping with this new blog, I can at least fill one of them. The content that is going to be put within these pages is still up for debate, but for the time being, we will just go with the flow and update it as life unfolds. I don't really feel that I am an overly private person, so maybe this blog will just be a public diary full of some of my inner-most feelings, or maybe just a chronicle of the superficial events that happen within the Elley family.

It has been over a month since Reid has passed and I seriously doubt I could have told you a month ago how I was going to feel today. In fact, I can’t even begin to tell you how I will feel tomorrow because this wave of emotions that runs through my blood cannot be contained. These feelings of sorrow, loss, devastation and emptiness jump up and bite me when I least expect them. There are also feelings of gratefulness, joy and hope that somehow creep in when the tide of sorrow has retracted. Unfortunately, the bad part of feeling good is that there is self-guilt that you do, in fact, feel good about something. I know this is all part of the healing process and I am allowed to have these feelings, and I know that it is OK to feel good, but Reid no longer has the option to feel good or be happy here on Earth. And the fact that I can be happy or feel good, feels wrong. I feel that if I can move on, I am letting him down.

Regardless of the emotions that run rampant, there is a sense of normalcy in the Elley household. As I have told others, it isn’t the normalcy that we had before Reid was born; it isn’t the normalcy that we had when Reid was alive; it is a normalcy that has been newly defined. We have time to run errands again and time to take for ourselves (exercising, sleeping, watching TV, going to nice dinners, hanging out with friends, etc.). But the one thing that is most noticeably different is the fact that everything (and I mean E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G) reminds us of Reid. Taking walks in the evening around the neighborhood reminds of us of the dreams we had of walking with a stroller, pushing Reid around. Going to the grocery store and seeing moms or dads pushing their kids in grocery carts while they shop reminds us of the normal life we never got to experience. Watching TV and all the sitcom shows that elaborate on disease, death, or emergencies – all seem too familiar. And to my point, life moves on; we are going to do things we have done in the past (or never before), but there is always going to be reminders in our life of the experiences that we never got to enjoy with Reid. And I am OK with this – it is something that will keep Reid’s memory alive and is something that will forever change our lives. It is our new “normal”.

After our trip to the beach, Kristen and I came home to a very empty house. While the physical things about the house hadn’t changed, the family and friends that had been so much a part of our lives for the week prior to and the week after Reid’s passing were all gone. I think we were both looking forward to some peace and quiet, but that silence afforded us the time to think about all of the “what if’s” and about the tragedy that had just occurred. After many sleepless nights (even with sleep aid pills), we found that we needed to do more to keep us busy. Kristen now regularly takes her bike on 20-30 mile rides with Laura Martin (the Martin’s were the couple that we met in the NICU - their son came home a few weeks ago after 8 months in the hospital), we have taken a trip to see my parents in South Carolina over the Fourth of July to celebrate my birthday with them, we have been hanging out with a lot of friends and enjoying their company (usually with a lot of wine and beer). We are keeping ourselves busy – and with this feeling of ‘busy’, it allows us to focus on healing.

While I feel that Kristen and I have done a good job at trying to get our lives back on track, I feel like there is a mountain of things that we need to take care of with Reid’s passing. We have ordered his headstone, got the process of making a claim on one of Reid’s life insurance policies underway, got his dirty clothes washed, got thank you notes written…. And that is about where the list of accomplishments ends. Things that need to be worked on: making a claim on Reid’s other life insurance policy, make every-other-day trips to the cemetery to water Reid’s grass, get the headstone installed, organize Reid’s toys and clothes, call Social Security/Medicaid to let them know that Reid has passed away so they can stop sending us the ‘generous’ $30 per month checks, order more death certificates (3 wasn’t enough as my father had originally told me – parents are always right), pay off the $13,000 of debt that we have accrued from funeral-related expenses, and maybe take down items in Reid’s bedroom that were specific to him (this may have to wait until we have another kid). I am sure the list is much longer than that, but I feel that I can’t rest until all of this stuff is taken care of.

And speaking of kids, Kristen and I definitely want to try again at creating a family. When and if that happens, only God knows. But we now know what it is like to be a parent; we know what we are missing. And the thought of never experiencing those joys again would be tragic. I feel that what Kristen and I have gone through is more than some parents go through in a lifetime; the hard part of parenting is over. Waking up in the middle of the night to feed a crying baby or change its diaper, dealing with temper-tantrums as a toddler, going through the awkwardness of a pre-pubescent child, saving up and putting a child through college… they all sound fun. We look forward to those kinds of sleepless nights.

Anyway, I will wrap up the marathon blog for today. I just wanted to get a few things out there and let you know that we are still here and we are still waking up every day and trying to do the things that normal people do. We are still putting one foot in front of the other and while we have had our many up’s and down’s, we are moving forward. Just like life in the NICU – you have to take one day at a time. I have probably left out many other details of our life since my last entry, but I guess that is the beauty of the internet and blogging in general – I can post another entry again anytime I want! I will sign off today with a big ‘thank you’ to everyone that has been a part of our lives over the past 10 months. The support that we have received has been amazing and seeing the number of lives that little Reid touched along the way has been a true blessing. I hope through this new blog, we can keep you abreast of what is going on in the life of the Elleys’ and we can keep some of the ties/connections with old friends that we have re-established through Reid’s short presence here on Earth.