“We did things - insignificant things, but things that normal people would do. We cried a lot - we eventually slept. We woke up. It was a new day, but it was the same nightmare. It still is. ” — these were my words about the day after Callum was born.
15 months later how am I doing, you may wonder…
Most days I’m ok. Really ok. I don’t cry much. I am not completely consumed with grief the way I once was. I laugh and enjoy life and I am somewhat “myself”, or as much myself as I ever will be. I find things to be grateful for and I see joy in things I once took for granted. I feel deeper when others are hurting and I understand things most will hopefully never have to. I miss him though. Every single day I miss my son. You probably wonder is it possible to miss someone so much you never actually met? It is, very much possible. I miss the idea I had of him and the life I had planned for us together. I miss the picture in my mind of Beau having a little brother and Adam and I having two sons. I wanted to dress him in the adorable tiny blue outfits that fill the bins in our storage closet.
I love the daughter I am carrying now. I am so happy she is in there kicking me as I type this. I am excited to get this opportunity to have another child so soon. It does help immensely to have something to look forward to. It helps ease the pain a lot too, I am not going to lie and say it doesn’t. Really, it takes my mind off a lot of things and gives me hope. It does not replace the son I lost. She can’t do that. A baby should not have a “job”, especially not one that huge and one that would be impossible to complete. She is an addition to our family, our once broken - and now healing family. She is our third child, our first daughter, and a soul that has been placed with us for many reasons - some already known and some not yet realized.
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