Jack. My son. I hope you can hear me.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
I hope
I hope he knows that he is still part of our lives. I hope he knows he is and always will be a part of this family. I hope he knows that I am shedding these tears for him. I hope he knows that my heart still aches for the kicks I felt. I hope he knows that his heartbeat will be a sound I will never forget and that I will always miss. I hope he knows that he made me the happiest person in the world when he came into our lives. I hope he knows that the day we lost him, I too died. I hope he knows that he has made me the mother I am today. I hope he knows how grateful I am that he chose me as his mother. I hope he knows that I am so grateful for everything he has taught me. I hope he knows how much we love him. I hope he knows how much I miss him. I hope he knows how much I think about him. I hope he knows that he is not forgotten.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Butterfly
It's not a secret that my "symbol" for Jack is a butterfly. When I
see one outside, I automatically think of him. When one flutters around
Samantha, I think that Jack is checking in on his sister. Driving down
the street and if one floats by, I think that my son is saying hello
and letting me know he's there. Butterflies hang in Samantha's room over
her crib. Every night, I point to them and she says "bah byes".
And now, even watching an episode of Sesame Street, Samantha's favorite
character makes a butterfly friend and sings a touching song that of
course brings tears to my eyes. Any time we watch the episode and the
song comes on, all I can do is stare at Jack's picture. As Samantha
watches intently or as she plays on the floor in front of the
television, I am staring at Jack's picture crying to a song sung by
Elmo. Funny and weird as it may seem, it's those little moments that
touch my heart and make me think of my son. I love you, Jack. And I miss
you.
see one outside, I automatically think of him. When one flutters around
Samantha, I think that Jack is checking in on his sister. Driving down
the street and if one floats by, I think that my son is saying hello
and letting me know he's there. Butterflies hang in Samantha's room over
her crib. Every night, I point to them and she says "bah byes".
And now, even watching an episode of Sesame Street, Samantha's favorite
character makes a butterfly friend and sings a touching song that of
course brings tears to my eyes. Any time we watch the episode and the
song comes on, all I can do is stare at Jack's picture. As Samantha
watches intently or as she plays on the floor in front of the
television, I am staring at Jack's picture crying to a song sung by
Elmo. Funny and weird as it may seem, it's those little moments that
touch my heart and make me think of my son. I love you, Jack. And I miss
you.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Boxes of Memories
I needed a picture of Jack's footprints. So I went through his boxes in Samantha's closet. Memories, emotions, heart ache, and tears rushed in. The first box I opened contained all the cards we received from all our loved ones. The next box contained all the onesies that were made at my baby shower. There was the box that contained his baby book. Sadly, that stops at the ultrasound pictures. Then I opened the box where his footprints are. Along with his amazing footprints were so many more beautiful and emotional memories. His hospital bracelet is in there. The blanket he was wrapped in is in there. The onesie and his hat that he wore are in there. I can't hold him. I can't squeeze him tight. Instead I can only hold onto these keepsakes and smell them and imagine him in them. I can only keep these objects in boxes forever and remember my Jack Jack as the most beautiful baby in the world. I can only pull these memories out every now and then when I need to remember my baby boy and his amazing impact he has had on our lives. I hate that I don't have Jack in my life. I cringe at the pain and the thought. But I am glad I have my little keepsakes to hold onto so that I have a little part of him.
I love and miss you, my prince.
Monday, January 13, 2014
Be grateful
![https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZHqvj2lhn-Sc6MCFmQ93m-7adQBfhD4GmuMDTov0aBCDaOReGJF0a_eGmD5DjNeJHVJmmPv1lyXpZqCWzWC7APPk0CMgVDuISvdlxwP4U71pVkei_vYPn_4s_j-dWQ0zIKP53EgW-WUNg/s1600/tumblr_m6vzxfEvvb1qkmsleo1_500_large.png](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZHqvj2lhn-Sc6MCFmQ93m-7adQBfhD4GmuMDTov0aBCDaOReGJF0a_eGmD5DjNeJHVJmmPv1lyXpZqCWzWC7APPk0CMgVDuISvdlxwP4U71pVkei_vYPn_4s_j-dWQ0zIKP53EgW-WUNg/s200/tumblr_m6vzxfEvvb1qkmsleo1_500_large.png)
Monday, January 6, 2014
A new year
2014 has come upon us, yet I feel a little like the same me. I'm getting older, my daughter is getting older, and time is passing by. And though years now go by almost as fast as days, I am still missing a piece of my heart. Time has not healed the wound and I am still not the person I once was. I may laugh at a joke or not shed tears everyday, but I am not the happy person I would like to be. I don't think I ever will be. It affects my life. It affects my relationships. But my son was taken from me and I don't think I will ever be the person I am "supposed" to be. There is always something missing. I don't know how else to describe it. It's just a piece missing. It's a constant sadness that won't go away. It's a continuous bitterness that comes over whenever there is joy. It's the feeling of guilt whenever I feel at all happy. It has changed me. And I don't know if I will ever be what people expect me to be. And I don't know if my life will ever be truly satisfied or happy. I hope that it doesn't push the people around from me. I hope that it doesn't affect my daughter's life or happiness. But it is who I am now and it's something I have to learn to accept if I can not change it.
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