I can’t stop thinking about you lately. That’s nothing new I suppose. However, the tears keep finding their way and it feels like a piece of you is slipping away from me. As if I am grieving my grief. Sometimes I miss the raw-searing-unstoppable pain because it makes you more real but at other times I am reminded how far I’ve come when I look into the mirror and actually recognize myself. Changed, yes, but lighter and happy again. I can think of you and smile now. I can already see how much you have changed my entire world and everything in it. You have given me such a gift in that. I would trade it for you in a second, but because I can’t I will choose to be grateful for this new perspective on life and the world around me. You know what I mean, you see me. You witness all of the unexplainable moments that I no longer take for granted. Sometimes it’s simply hugging your Daddy a little bit longer and embracing the moment of having him in my arms. Sometimes it’s laughing aloud at everything that goes wrong in a day. Sometimes I’m out for a walk and take an extra lap because I am no longer in such a huge rush in this life. My son, your short life has taught me how to take a deep breath and go with the moment. I love that. I owe that to you.
This past year belonged to you. I needed that but somehow I feel like the possibility of another positive pregnancy test in the next few months will rock my world and leave less room for you. And that makes me so sad. How can I accept even less of you? On the other hand, I am scared that it will be the opposite and I’ll miss you even more. How does 9 months not feel like déjà vu after such an experience? How do I separate it? How do I take all you have taught me and apply it during such a rollercoaster? How will I make room for another baby? How will I embrace another life ? Especially because I embrace deeper knowing that at any moment these small beauties in life can just slip away. Do I embrace out of fear? I don’t want to be afraid anymore.
But I am. I’m terrified Jake. I’m terrified to be so vulnerable and I’m terrified not to be. When I heard Hope’s heartbeat for the first time I sobbed as my body shook from head to toe, too scared to look at the monitor. How will I get through this? I know the answer. Of course I know the answer. Our sovereign Lord. I know. But I must admit, I relied on him for you and you are gone. He gives and takes away. I know this all too well. What if I can’t bare it if he takes away again? What if that is my ultimate breaking point? What if I lose another baby and then completely lose myself? Gosh I’m terrified. We would all like to think that tragedy doesn’t strike twice but we all know better than that. We have no control.
I have no control.
I am scared and I miss you and I just wanted to tell you that. Because sometimes I’m afraid that you look down and see me doing better these days. You see me laughing and smiling effortlessly. You see me enjoying things again and looking forward to new things. You see me spending less time in your room and I’m afraid you think I am over you. You need to know that I will never be over you. Ever. You know the times you see me sobbing at night? It hurts just the same as it always has. I’m just used to it now and have learned to be joyful and sad at the same time.
I think the effort of planning for another pregnancy is already making me miss you more. I’m not sure how to bare this and I’m not even pregnant yet. For now it’s just me and you. Please son, surround me with your light and peace during this time of anticipation. I love you, so very much.