I've been remembering you all day. All month actually. There is the Walk To Remember on the 30th with the Grief Support Group from the hospital, and your siblings and I will be there.
I'm taking care of mostly 2 1/2 year olds this year in preschool, and somedays, it really makes me miss you, my own little 2 and a half year old. I imagine that you would have brown hair, but curly, like your brother. And you would be short, like your oldest sister (and your mommy and daddy too!) And beautiful hazel eyes like your other sister.
I imagine that you would be throwing fits sometimes like the other two year olds. I imagine that you would love to paint like the two year olds. I imagine that you would love to give hugs like the other two year olds.
So when I look at my family, it helps me build a picture of what you would look like. And when I look at the little children, it helps me build a picture of how you would act. It really helps me to build that picture of you in my mind.
Except for sometimes.
And then sometimes, it makes me so sad that it is only just a picture. And that I'll never get to see what you would look like as a two year old. Or how you would act as a two year old.
I love you. And I remember you. Always.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
It really is eerie
how in tune your brother seems to be with me and my thoughts of you.
I haven't mentioned to him (or anyone) that I've been thinking about you more the past couple weeks. I'm not exactly sure why I am thinking about you more right now, but I have been.
Anyway, we were at a store today and I was trying on shoes. I was there with your brother and sister. One of the store employees was talking to your brother and then I overheard him say "I have a brother in heaven. He is two."
And he has talked two or three more times today about you - mostly that he misses you and that he wishes that you could be his "on earth" brother instead of his "in heaven" brother.
Me too.
I haven't mentioned to him (or anyone) that I've been thinking about you more the past couple weeks. I'm not exactly sure why I am thinking about you more right now, but I have been.
Anyway, we were at a store today and I was trying on shoes. I was there with your brother and sister. One of the store employees was talking to your brother and then I overheard him say "I have a brother in heaven. He is two."
And he has talked two or three more times today about you - mostly that he misses you and that he wishes that you could be his "on earth" brother instead of his "in heaven" brother.
Me too.
Saturday, May 08, 2010
Why?
Why do so many people have to learn the pain of losing a child that was so wanted?
Why do so many people have to deal with the pain of never knowing that child?
Why can't every pregnancy end with a crying, wrinkly, 7 pound baby?
Why can't time truly heal all things?
Why do they have to keep making such small caskets?
Why did you have to leave?
Why do so many people have to deal with the pain of never knowing that child?
Why can't every pregnancy end with a crying, wrinkly, 7 pound baby?
Why can't time truly heal all things?
Why do they have to keep making such small caskets?
Why did you have to leave?
Saturday, April 03, 2010
March 28, 2010 - Your 2nd Birthday
5 red roses from your family - two white roses for you We also brought you a little Winnie The Pooh balloon and a birthday squeaky duck for your 2nd birthday.
Releasing your balloons - 5 blue from us, and2 white for you
Your sisters and brother - ages 10, 8, and 5
The baby garden at the cemetery. It makes
Your birthday cake.
Your sisters and brother - ages 10, 8, and 5
The baby garden at the cemetery. It makesme sad to see all the little ones that
have had to go too soon.
Your birthday cake.Your sister picked it out because
she said "A Two Year Old would like a
crocodile on their cake."
There is also your candle.
Mommy's friend made it for you.
We light it every year.
Happy Birthday Christopher! We miss you!
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Weather like it was today always reminds me of you . . .
which I guess makes sense, since it was the end of March in 2008 when you had to leave us.
It was grey, really grey, with lots of clouds in the sky, a cool breeze, but all the snow has melted off the ground.
I can hardly believe it has been almost 2 years. I rarely cry anymore, but I've spent a lot of the last month or so still kind of angry about the fact that you died. Two or three times in the last year, I've gone to the grief support group that the hospital sponsers. Someone was saying that it helps them to remember that God has a plan for our lives.
That thought doesn't bring me peace. I just can't wrap my mind around the thought that you dying was part of a plan. Or that I needed to have it happen in order for my plan to be fulfilled. Or what I could possibly learn from losing you that I didn't learn when I had the 13 week miscarriage in 2006.
Most of the people that I know from church have 4 children. Most of them had their 4th in the last two years. It is so unfair that I didn't get to have 4 living children. There are many people who have moved in in the last two years who don't know about you and when they see our family sitting in the pew, they don't even know that I didn't choose to stop after 3 children.
And so many, so many people that I've talked to that have lost a child - to miscarriage, to stillbirth, to SIDS, they all went on to have another child. It was so hard to know that not only had I lost you, but that I would never, ever have another child.
Your brother is healing. He was only 3 when you died, and he had only known about you for 4 days when you died. But he was so affected by your death. I have worried so much about him. But while he still talks about you, still tells people about you, he mostly talks about things that 5 year old boys like - cars, blocks, superheroes.
It is almost your birthday. Your second birthday. I still think of you every day.
It was grey, really grey, with lots of clouds in the sky, a cool breeze, but all the snow has melted off the ground.
I can hardly believe it has been almost 2 years. I rarely cry anymore, but I've spent a lot of the last month or so still kind of angry about the fact that you died. Two or three times in the last year, I've gone to the grief support group that the hospital sponsers. Someone was saying that it helps them to remember that God has a plan for our lives.
That thought doesn't bring me peace. I just can't wrap my mind around the thought that you dying was part of a plan. Or that I needed to have it happen in order for my plan to be fulfilled. Or what I could possibly learn from losing you that I didn't learn when I had the 13 week miscarriage in 2006.
Most of the people that I know from church have 4 children. Most of them had their 4th in the last two years. It is so unfair that I didn't get to have 4 living children. There are many people who have moved in in the last two years who don't know about you and when they see our family sitting in the pew, they don't even know that I didn't choose to stop after 3 children.
And so many, so many people that I've talked to that have lost a child - to miscarriage, to stillbirth, to SIDS, they all went on to have another child. It was so hard to know that not only had I lost you, but that I would never, ever have another child.
Your brother is healing. He was only 3 when you died, and he had only known about you for 4 days when you died. But he was so affected by your death. I have worried so much about him. But while he still talks about you, still tells people about you, he mostly talks about things that 5 year old boys like - cars, blocks, superheroes.
It is almost your birthday. Your second birthday. I still think of you every day.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Almost Christmas again . . .
Christmas is harder, since you left.
I found out that I was pregnant with you on December 24th, 2007. I spent all of Christmas Day just smiling. It was still just a secret between you and I.
Last Christmas was so difficult. It was so hard to be excited about the birth of a Son, when all that I wanted was to be able to be sharing a first Christmas with our second son. I cried most of December. I don't remember much of last Christmas Day except that we went out to your grave. The marker was covered with snow, and we had to sweep it off. It was cold.
We were going to a Christmas party last weekend, and your brother was talking about you. He said "I wish Christopher could come to the Christmas party. I miss Christopher more at Christmas time."
I sometimes wonder whose heart is more broken because of your death - mine or your brother's.
I found out that I was pregnant with you on December 24th, 2007. I spent all of Christmas Day just smiling. It was still just a secret between you and I.
Last Christmas was so difficult. It was so hard to be excited about the birth of a Son, when all that I wanted was to be able to be sharing a first Christmas with our second son. I cried most of December. I don't remember much of last Christmas Day except that we went out to your grave. The marker was covered with snow, and we had to sweep it off. It was cold.
We were going to a Christmas party last weekend, and your brother was talking about you. He said "I wish Christopher could come to the Christmas party. I miss Christopher more at Christmas time."
I sometimes wonder whose heart is more broken because of your death - mine or your brother's.
Monday, November 02, 2009
All Souls Day
Today, it was All Souls Day. Last year, I went out to your grave and put flowers on the grave. Today, I wanted to, but I had a feeling that I wouldn't make it out to the grave and I didn't. I'm sorry.
But we did talk about you. We were talking about relatives that had died. Your daddy told some stories about his grandparents, and I told stories about mine, and your brother, your sweet brother who SO wishes you were here, said "I have some memories about someone who died. I remember Christopher. I remember that he was in your tummy. I remember that he died and his body went to the cemetery. I remember that we celebrated his birthday. I remember that he is my brother."
He remembers you. He may have never met you. And while your daddy and I saw you, we never really got a chance to meet you either. But we remember. Your sisters remember. We all remember. Even if I don't get out to your grave, please don't think that it isn't because we forgot. We remember.
But we did talk about you. We were talking about relatives that had died. Your daddy told some stories about his grandparents, and I told stories about mine, and your brother, your sweet brother who SO wishes you were here, said "I have some memories about someone who died. I remember Christopher. I remember that he was in your tummy. I remember that he died and his body went to the cemetery. I remember that we celebrated his birthday. I remember that he is my brother."
He remembers you. He may have never met you. And while your daddy and I saw you, we never really got a chance to meet you either. But we remember. Your sisters remember. We all remember. Even if I don't get out to your grave, please don't think that it isn't because we forgot. We remember.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)