By Vanessa Rasanen Last week I wrote about hope. This week so much of that hope is gone. Even when I’m able to spend 5, 10, 30 minutes focused on a project or helping one of my children get dressed or giving them a bath or rocking them to sleep, it doesn’t take long for this painful reality to come and smack me in the face again. Our baby’s dead. Not even alive long enough for his or her heart to start beating. Dead. Gone. And as if that knowledge wasn’t difficult enough as it is… there is the physical reminder, the discomfort, the pain, and the visible evidence of…