So much has happened in 9 months, and yet nothing has superseded your birth and death. We are all carrying on, slowly getting used to the pain in our hearts and minds. It’s not easy, but we are doing it.
M still wants to know why you died and why we couldn’t keep you alive on a ventilator. D missed you at his graduation. You were supposed to be around for the rest of our lives, and we all feel so ripped off. Daddy really misses you too. I can’t figure out yet how he “feels”, he tends not to emote these kinds of things.
I don’t think this letter to you has to be all about how much we miss you (immensely). I think I am beyond the what if’s and dreaming you were still with us. It’s too painful and doesn’t change the fact that you died. Huh…saying my baby died never gets any easier.
Some people try and identify with me and my pain. Some are curious about how we have carried on, the truth is your brothers. I love them, and didn’t want to scare them. How could I go to pieces when they were just as sad as I was? How could I lay in bed unshowered for days (weeks?) at a time when they needed me to comfort and console them. Believe me I grieved. I cried. I bounced my head off my steering wheel a few times, and then at the dinner table I would tell them about it. I didn’t want my crying fits to be a secret. I wanted to them to tell me when they cried as well, and they did.
At 6 months we did a balloon release. I hope all of our messages of love and kisses made it up to you.
Yesterday I did something I have never done before. I picked up your urn and I hugged it. I know you miss me too, so maybe you could come give me a hug in my dreams tonight. Daddy, M and D jr. have been waiting for you to arrive in their dreams too.
Hopefully soon you will be a big brother. Not what we had planned, but kind of hard to jump off this path now. I know you will keep us all safe, I feel your love and protection every day little man
I love you, and miss you every moment of my every day.