Two Years

How has it already been two years?  Two years since I gave birth to you. Two years since I last saw your face. Two years since I said hello and goodbye on the same day. 

A lot has changed since last year on your birthday. You sent us your baby sister who has mended a lot of the hurt, but she will never take your place. Seeing her and all of the new things she's learning and doing is a constant reminder of all that we missed out on with you. 

I would give anything to have you here with us. Not a day has passed in the last two years that I haven't thought of you.  Not one. I wonder what your laugh would sound like. What your voice would sound like. If you still looked like your Daddy, when your brother and sister look like me. I wonder what characters you would love, and what would make you smile.  I wonder what your favorite food would be. Would you need sung to at bedtime each night?  Would you try to do all the bigger kid stuff Thomas was into? Would you two fight over the same toy?  So many unknowns. 

That's what your life is to me - unknown. I still don't know why you had to leave us, and I probably never will. I just have so many questions. 

I still have days that I'm angry you're not here. Not angry with anyone in particular, just angry. I still sometimes ask "Why me? Why did God take you?"  And as angry as I am on those days I'd still do it all over again to have those precious thirty four weeks with you. 

I also have days that I'm filled with so much gratitude that I was chosen to be your Mom. Every child is a gift from above, and I was hand picked to be your Mom. 

Children are a gift from the Lord, they are a reward from Him. - Psalm 127:3

Two years. Two years since I gave birth to you. Two years since I last saw your face. Two years since I said hello and goodbye on the same day. But, also, two years full of never ending love, and that's what pushes me to keep going. 

I hope you're dancing in heaven my boy. Happy Angelversary. 

Momma

Tomorrow....

I don’t know what to say.  

How do I describe the rippling ache whose circles widen but never disappear?

How to communicate that he is an important part of my family, my life, even though he is dead?

How to celebrate his birthday when he is not here to enjoy it, when the decisions I must make of how to remember here are incapacitating?

And how do I describe just how much he has changed my life, my thoughts, my heart? 

How do I put into words the love and gratitude I have for this tiny little boy that never breathed?

Tomorrow is his 2^nd birthday, but he’s not here to celebrate.  He died.  I birthed him.  I held his body and said goodbye, but it was not really goodbye.  It was an end, and a beginning.  I carry his memory and my love for him with me always.  

Some days it’s beautiful to be a mother to a son that died, that I was chosen for that purpose.  Other days it’s an eternal aching, knowing I’ll never see him grow up.  

Today is one of those days.  

I don’t know what to say.