I miss my boy. So much. It goes without saying I miss him with every beat of my heart, and every breath that I take. I just yearn to hold him one last time and simply refuse to believe he's been gone nearly a year now. A year ago I had so much excitement about what still lay ahead... And now, I have move so far beyond him that it's beyond my comprehension that I have not yet died of a broken heart. If someone could, I know I would have.
|Fresh from the oven.|
Where the only time we left the house was to forge for food and once seated at a restaurant realize nothing actually "looked good" -we ate for nourishment only. The days where we would sit across the table from one another and he would tell me, "I only get out of bed for you now". Or he would remind me "if anything ever happened to you..." and end the sentence with a knowing look.
And yet it's been nearly a year since we had him. Nearly a year since we lost him. It's been a bitter-sweet offering that this year has flown by. It seems the least fate could provide that it would pass so quickly, and yet I find I can barely remember what it felt like to be pregnant with him. I remember specific things, like how if I were to lay on my side and cuddle up behind Scott, Jack would repeatedly kick Scott in the ass until I moved. He wasn't uncomfortable. No... I honestly believe he was showing Scott who was boss. It was him, all 7 pounds of delicious baby boy.
In the many biophysical ultrasounds we had in the latter weeks, he would kick and shuffle around my belly, making it hard for the ultrasound technician to take accurate measurements. When this happened, the technician would take a break and invite Scott into the room to check him out on the screen. Jack was clearly showing off the dance moves he inherited from his daddy. At the sound of his daddy's voice, my little boy would grow still and wait to hear it again before he started dancing again. The technician said this was often the case- that Jack knew his daddy's voice, and would become so intent on hearing if that he would stop moving to get a better listen. I don't know whether it's all bullshit or not, but it makes my heart melt to think that Jack's love for his daddy existed long before they met face-to-face.
Scott held him first, just moments after he was born. He cuddled Jack skin-to-skin on his chest, and repeatedly told me how cute Jack was from over the blue blanket dividing Jack and I as I lay on the operating table. Scott spoke to him, telling him he was going to be alright. I told Jack, upon first meeting his gaze, that we had waited our whole lives to meet him, and we had. And now we wait again, until our lives are through, and he waits for us this time.
This is just one of those days where the sky is overcast and cold rain is falling and I'm remembering a little boy who wasn't all that far away not all that long ago. And I'm missing him and the world I lost when I lost him. And I'm inconsolable, and feeling quite sorry for myself.
Ps. As I type this, I've felt several strong kicks from my sweet little girl, and I remember just how much I have to be grateful for. I love her, I love her, I love her. But fuck do I miss her brother.
pss. I have to laugh- I typed maniac monday...ahahaha