I remember holding you, your perfect 10 toes and 10 fingers, your daddy’s nose, just like it was yesterday. My heart overflow with love and joy thinking of that very short time with you. Although it was agonizing and hard, knowing you weren’t alive, I had and still have all the feelings of a proud momma holding you that day.
Thinking of what we have been through, what has happened since we lost you is what makes it feel like an eternity has gone by. Although my grief is not “Over”, it will never be Over I can look back at the last year and see the progress I have made to take on the grief, make it part of who I am, and integrate it in to my life and I owe so much of that to you. You, my dear, fought and held on much longer than any of the doctors thought you would. You held on for 10 more weeks after they told us you might leave us any day. You were a strong fighter, and I continue to fight in this life because of your fighting spirit.
But those first few months without you were agonizing. I couldn’t get out of bed for days, weeks. From the physical pain of your birth, and from the emotional pain of losing you. That time was a blur, a dark haze of the shock of grief. Other than your birth and your funeral I don’t remember much of January. A coping mechanism I guess.
As time went by I was forced to return to “normal life” Going back to work, social outings. But nothing was normal anymore. I didn’t feel comfortable in my own skin. I was walking around and living in a world where you should be alive and with me, but you weren’t. Small talk and social outings seemed useless. How could I talk about the weather when I felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest and lie broken on the floor.
Months went by, and there were many, many nights that I cried myself to sleep. Deep guttural sobs, begging that this was a nightmare, that I would wake up and you would still be there, but no
More months went by and we started more and more adventures with baby beluga photos. Our way of continuing your legacy. A way of journey and documenting our grief, and I way of making the world know you and your sister were real, are real, and will forever be our beloved children.
Now the evenings of deep despair are farther and farther apart. I still miss and think about you every. Single. Day. The thoughts now lean more toward the beautiful life you had for the 7 months you were here, and less toward the deep pit of grief. But I am still sad, and I think I will be every day. Every day I think of you and I am happy, I am sad. I am proud and I am humbled that I was chosen to be your mommy.
You help me to know I can do anything, because through you I have loved more than I ever thought possible and I have endured more pain than I ever thought possible. And I would do it all again to have one more moment with you.
|On our trip to Sequim we lit a lantern in your honor|