I can’t believe it is has been 2 years since the day we lost our baby boy. So much has changed since that heartbreaking day. I always like to reflect back to my feeling of hope and happiness and then the loss that I felt that day. It helps keep things in perspective and is a continuous reminder that “Tomorrow is never promised”.
Two years have passed and this day is not much easier. This year we will be spending it with Brooklyn also. As she grows up, we will continue our tradition of dinner at Rubios, having a white flower sit on my desk, and lighting a candle in the evening. We want her to understand that she has an older brother in Heaven looking down on her and protecting her. Although, at 1 year old, she still does not understand, within the next year or two she will.
I still look back on the hopes and dreams I had for our baby boy. I still wonder what he would have enjoyed doing, what he would have grown up to become. I wish I would have gotten to hold him, but I also understand that no time with your child is ever enough. Children should always live longer than their parents. Parents should never have to say goodbye to their children. I think of my friend Allison and her son Max at A Mother's Hope for a Child often and my heart breaks for her.
Since having Brooklyn, I’ve noticed that I worry a lot more about something happening to one of the three of us. I wasn’t sure what was causing it and just assumed it was part of motherhood. While writing this blog post, I realized that I think it’s the experiences I’ve had the last 2 years that has made me such a worry wart. Within the span of 3 months in 2013, a co-worker was killed in a motorcycle accident, we lost our baby boy, and my husband’s aunt passed away in a motorcycle accident. Now in 2015 a friend’s son was diagnosed with a degenerative disease that only gives him a life expectancy of 3-5 years. While I want to follow her posts and Max’s journey, it is so heartbreaking to see all the posts she likes of other families going through the same thing she is going through. So I think this has all taught me that Tomorrow is Never Promised, but at the same time, has me fearing when there is no tomorrow. How am I supposed to balance this?
I know God will never give you more than you can handle, but I found myself worried I wouldn’t make it through 2 years ago. I’ve now seen how much I’ve grown and the strength I’ve gained from my experience. Our baby boy brought a lot of happiness and hope to others, and also helped the world be more open and informed regarding the feelings and loss through miscarriages. I was able to see my family and friends come together as an amazing support team. I was able to share my story to not only help others who were grieving through the same loss, but to make others who’ve never experienced it understand the emotions.
I was asked last year when the anniversary of losing our baby and the due date of the new baby were coinciding, whether I wanted Brooklyn to be born on this day. I vehemently said NO. Did she need to wait another 6 days? No, but I’m really glad that we have these days separate. We can mourn the loss of our baby boy and then the next week rejoice the birth of our baby girl. We are able to feel our emotions both days without feeling guilty about taking away from either one.
This year makes this day a little bit brighter because we get to share it with Brooklyn. She has brought so much sunshine and happiness to our family. She truly is our Rainbow baby. I will forever regret the time I didn’t get with my baby boy, but I will always be thankful for my beautiful daughter. And I know that our baby boy is looking down on us and wishing us every happiness. We will get to meet him someday and in the meantime, I will light my candle and look at my flower to remember my sweet baby boy.
(I have no idea why it imports portrait pics horizontally! UGH)
“Healing doesn’t mean forgetting or making the memories insignificant. It just means refocusing.”
The above quote was one of the sayings I really latched on to when I was dealing with my pain. Now, 2 years later, I reflect on it and see that it is absolutely true. I struggled with worrying about forgetting my baby. But I’ve come to truly see that just because I’ve healed from my pain, it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten him. I’ve refocused my life. I will forever have a scar and a missing piece in my heart. But I’m focused on making the most of every day and loving my little girl with everything I have. But I will never forget my baby boy.
“Take our million teardrops, wrap them up in love, then ask the wind to carry them, to you in Heaven above.”