Goodnight, Jack day 753.

As I lay Samantha to sleep (which is very rare these days because of my back), I let her know you are watching over her. You are her big brother, her guardian angel, and I am so grateful of that. But, my darling boy, I wish you were her with us. We lost you 753 days ago. I can't believe it still. I can't believe that day happened and I can't believe how long it's been.

Goodnight, sweet prince. I would cradle you in my arms, hold you on my lap, and give you sweet kisses while taking in every whiff of scent that I can. We miss you. You are forever in our hearts. I hope that where you are your dreams are sweet and you are being watched over just as you are watching over us. I love you, my son. I love you more than words can describe. I hope you can sense the feelings and emotions that get lodged in my throat, that turn my stomach into knots, that tear my heart into pieces, and that bring tears into my eyes.

Goodnight, my beautiful baby boy. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Daddy's Little Girl

Since starting working and because of my back surgery, Sean has spent a lot more time one on one with Samantha. He's head over heels in love with his daughter. I can see it. I can hear it. It's obvious. He asks her for kisses. He loves getting hugs from her. He tells her he loves her all the time, he enjoys spending every morning with her, and he loves taking her to daycare. He is so proud of her. Watching Sean be the father I knew he would be is amazing. It makes me fall in love with him all over again. And then I see how she is with him. She used to be ALL about me. She wouldn't leave my side and she cried every time I left her behind, even with Sean. Now, she runs to him, hugs him, and follows him around. Daddy is her number one guy. Hands down.
I remember when Sean was scared to have a baby. He was hesitant when we started trying. He didn't know how he would handle a teeny tiny baby, the diapers, the crying, the tantrums. When we lost Jack, he was the first to say that he wanted to do everything possible in order to try for another baby. He said if it was a test, he knew then that he really did want to be a father. When I surprisingly got pregnant with Samantha, he again was scared. I mean, who wouldn't be? We lost a baby only a few months before. When he heard we were having a girl, I could tell he was a little bummed. He wanted a son so badly, especially after Jack. Then Samantha came into our lives. He fell in love with her in an instant and he became the daddy I knew he would be. He was a natural.
Now, as Samantha grows up so fast, I see that Sean is enjoying her every single day. And he still has so many more moments to look forward to because he can't wait for her to get older to do more and more with him.
I love my family. I love my husband and our daughter. There is no doubt about that. However, our little family is missing a huge piece. Jack is forever in our hearts and his memory will live on forever. I wish I could say I could not ask for more. But I can. I can ask for my son back. But I can at least the love Sean, Samantha, and I share helps us get through the darkest days.

What a Difference

Two years ago, yesterday, I was a mess. I didn't think I could face the world. I wanted to curl up into a ball and join my son. Two years ago, on October 15th, my son was supposed to be born into this world, crying, screaming, alive. Instead, 2 weeks earlier, we found out he was gone. Instead, 2 years ago on October 15th, we planted a tree in his memory. I was crying, I was miserable, I just wanted to be with him.

This year, I have my daughter to keep me smiling and to keep me going. This year, I remember Jack with the fondest of memories and all I do is try to keep his memory alive. I miss you, my sweet baby boy. Every year I will look back on the days of the month of October and only think of you; no matter how much time passes.

Frustration, frustration, frustration

I have seen my surgeon for a followup visit, I have scheduled physical therapy, and I go back to work tomorrow.  Time is going forward and hopefully progress in my recovery will begin. BUT for another 6 weeks, I can't drive, I can't bend down, and I can't lift anything more than 10 pounds. Take one guess of something that weighs about 25 pounds. That would be my darling daughter, Samantha. And that means: I can't lift her, I can't swoop her up and give her hugs and kisses, and I can't help with things like bathing or putting her to bed. Sure I have time off from doing housework and changing diapers, but it also means I have to take time off from doing what I love to do the most; taking care of my baby girl. This past weekend, I was literally pissed at myself and my body because I wasn't at Rocky Lake spending Jack's birthday weekend with him. I thought of myself as a bad mommy. And now, I am just purely frustrated with my body because I can't be the mommy I'm supposed to be with Samantha. At least not for a few weeks. And do NOT get me started on the part about not being able to drive. You NEED to drive in Miami. You can't get around Miami without a car.

Ok. Enough complaining. I'm grateful I'm in the recovery process. I'm grateful that hopefully I won't have severe back pain like I used to. I am just beyond frustrated with the process.

The tears have kicked in....

My dearest, Jack. Yesterday was your 2nd birthday and we spent the night with friends celebrating you. We lit 2 lanterns and sent them to the heavens to signify your angelversary. This weekend we were supposed to spend with you at Rocky Lake. I was supposed to set off butterflies in your memory. I was supposed to sit on the dock and be able to talk to you. We were supposed to be able to be with you on your birthday weekend. Instead, your mother had to get hurt and now your family is not able to go and be with you where you are laid on a weekend that is supposed to be spent with you. I am so sorry. I wish so badly I was going up there to be with you. It's killing me that I can't. It's hurting me more than I thought it would. Just please know that where ever I am, you are in my mind and in my heart. And please know that if I could, I would be up there with you. I would be talking to you and spending time with you. I am so sorry. I love you, my two year old boy.

Two Years

2 years ago I went in for a routine checkup with my OB. 2 years ago, we couldn't find a heart beat. 2 years ago, I saw Jack's lifeless body and flat line on the ultrasound. They say time heals all wounds, but I disagree. Time may make the memory feel more distant, and it may make it easier for the days to go by. However, time does not heal the wound of a heart break. My heart will always be missing a huge piece. Jack's absence will always, always be there, and no time, nothing anyone could do or say can fix that. My first child, my son, my baby boy is missing from my life. He's supposed to be a happy 2 year old boy walking around our house and showing us all the new things he's learning. He's supposed to be learning new words and possibly saying his ABC's. He's supposed to be learning how to do things in the garage with his daddy. He's supposed to be giving his mommy hugs and kisses. Instead, Jack's memory is in our minds and in our hearts. Our friends and family continue to celebrate his memory through prayer, through thoughts, and through butterfly sightings.

Tonight, we will light 2 lanterns to signify the 2 years that our angel baby is in heaven. We hope that he is watching from above and that he knows how much he is loved and thought of. He is not forgotten. His memory will live forever through us and his sister will know all about him.

I love you, Jack. I think of you all the time. Happy 2nd birthday in heaven, my sweet prince.