When you are TTC or pregnant you always have thoughts, images and wants running through your head. You see a photo, an outfit or a story and it means something to you. During my pregnancy I had found a picture on Pinterest of a family’s hands. The father of course was on bottom and so on. That picture always stuck in my head. We have pictures of our son. Like any mother I wish there were many many more. Of each of these pictures this one remains one of my favorites.
There are two photos laser etched into his headstone. This is one of them. We are three. There are no words to describe how it felt to be able to take that photo. To be a family. There are also no words to describe how it feels to know that it is the only one I will ever have.
The time is getting shorter until we will be celebrating his second birthday. It is hard to describe to someone what you feel. Happiness, joy, sadness, bewilderment, pain, unending grief, loneliness, longing, want, need, and failure to name a few. I speak to my son in my heart every day. I love him, I miss him, I would give my life for him. I am doing my very best to take care of his Daddy. It is hard when you are a broken Mommy.
I am angered at times as we have to keep our grief to ourselves. The statute of limitations has run out in society. I am no longer supposed to have that gut wrenching, gaping hole in my heart. I am not longer supposed to feel the pain of not having someone to run after, someone to hear giggling in their bed early in the morning. Someone to bath and read bedtime stories to. I am not longer supposed to feel the void of never ever hearing someone call me Mommy. Never hearing the words Daddy or I love you. I am not supposed to remember what it felt like to walk away from his grave holding my husband’s hand as we went to our car and drove home alone to an empty house. I am not supposed to remember what it felt like to bath and dress my son for the first time. Only after he had already passed away moments earlier in my arms.
He is always close to with me. I have a part of him etched above my heart. These are parts of my two favorite men. I have a tattoo of our son`s handprint and my husband`s handwriting from my first Mother`s Day card. No matter where I am, you both are always with me.