Hell on earth

This is all so wrong. When am I going to stop thinking my son is coming back? His death is all too real yet at the same time I find myself thinking that at some point someone is going to give him back to me. That he will just reappear in my life and I will be able to breathe again. I cannot believe its been two months. How did I get here and where have the days gone? I replay his life and death constantly in my head. I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to hate every day I wake up to realize this nightmare is not imaginary. This pain is ugly. It's draining and cruel and no matter how much I know I don't deserve to be dealing with this or how good of a person I try to be just doesn't matter, because it won't bring him back. There is no hallelujah at the end of this road. No moment that I will finally be filled with happiness because I do not ever get to feel what it's like to hold my son again. I have read that parents that lose their children say their arms literally ache for them and it is so true. My arms are starting to forget just how wonderful it felt to have him there and they are screaming at me to go pick him up, but I can't. I'm lost. It's been quite ironic in the most awful of ways to find out that without my child, who was to young to do anything on his own, I no longer know how to function. It's not like he could give me advice or tell me what I needed to do, I just knew. Now that's he's gone I don't know how to do anything and all I want is to ask him how I'm supposed to keep going with out him. When you have a baby you don't really have time to think, you just do what your supposed to do. Feed them, hold them, cuddle with them, calm them, talk to them, and love them. So what am I supposed to do now? What am I supposed to fill my days with? I have really struggled with getting myself to realize that I have to go on with life knowing that everything I'm doing isn't what I should be doing, because it would all be so different if he were here like he should be. It's truly terrifying and awful to spend each moment thinking of how wrong everything is. I want to relive his life and my life with him. If I had a remote I would replay those 68 days over and over again until I die. I truly loved being his mom and watching Quinton be such an amazing big brother. When I think about him I imagine what it would be like if I could have him back. Probably like one of those scenes in a movie where they run full force to embrace someone. 

That's all I want to do, run to him and tell him how awful this has all been and how much it hurts to even breathe now that he isn't. I have been sentenced to a life filled with pain, grief, and utter confusion. I just want my son, but no one can give him back to me and it hurts like hell.

"There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice."