Conversations

I talked about you the other day. I told the story about you. It's been a while. I haven't talked about it and my emotions that I felt in October of 2011. Tears came to my eyes, but I held them in as much as I could. I talked about my questioning of faith. I talked about how much I needed and wanted you but you were just taken from me with no reason. I talked about how much I regret not birthing you naturally. I talked about how I almost chose not to see your beautiful face. I talked about how I was blessed with your sister soon after losing you. I talked about how it hurt beyond explanation when I lost you. 

I miss you, Jack. I miss talking about you. I even miss the raw emotions I felt almost two years ago. I never wish that to happen again, but I would like to relive the moment of seeing you again. I would like to relive the moment when I felt you inside of me. 

Please know, my son, that you are constantly on my mind and always in my heart. Time has made things easier and I am almost ok, but I miss you just as much as I did back then. 

It's been a while....

My beautiful baby boy is always on my mind. He's around my neck. He's in my living room. There's a piece of him in my heart. And there is a piece of my heart missing because he's not with us. Everyday that goes by, when little things get to me, I stop and say to myself, "take a deep breath, Jack is watching over you, and remember the important things in life". I am guilty of not realizing that there are things I should let go of, things I should not care about so much, and there are things I have no control over. And I still hope that people can let go of the trivial things and realize what matters most. I think of Jack at these moments and ask him to just help me get by. I ask him to keep our little family strong. I can't believe it will be 3 years this year. I can't believe that I have to ask my son for the strength I need versus him looking to me. My little angel is so important to us. 

Cancer

My uncle is very sick. He has a brain tumor. He has cancer. They removed it a few weeks ago and recommended chemo and radiation, however, as the stubborn man that he, he refused. Now, as of yesterday, we know that the tumor has returned and even almost doubled in size. He NOW is accepting the fact that he needs chemo patches, radiation, and medication. I do not usually feel too much sadness for family sickness. It's more distant. It's not my immediate family. It doesn't hurt as bad. However, this time, it's a little different. It's one of my father's brothers. It's an uncle who I lived with when I moved to Miami. It's an uncle that I consider a second father. It's an uncle who is the father to the cousins whom I am closest to. So it IS scary. It IS worrisome. And it IS concerning me. It's sad. Not only am I worried for him, but I'm worried for his wife who I really consider a mother figure. I'm worried for his sons and daughters who I am very close to and really consider my sisters and brothers.
I visited my uncle yesterday. He is doing ok; a little "out of it". He's a strong man who I know will fight a bitter fight. He's not one to give up easily. So I am hoping for the best.


When I visited him, I went to the same hospital where I lost Jack, where I had Samantha, and where my father spent many days. It was a mix of such different emotions that I can not even put them into words. That hospital is such a bittersweet place for me. It brings me such joy but at the same time such sadness.

Month of March

March has arrived. The year is already slipping by. Yes, it's only the 3rd month of 2014 but it's already the 3rd month of 2014. I can't believe it. Before we know it, we will be celebrating Samantha's 2nd birthday and Jack's 3rd. I look around and everyone's lives are moving on and moving forward. Our family's life included. But back there, in the back of my mind, in the core of my soul, and in my heart, Jack is always lingering. People don't bring him up as much anymore, Sean and I don't talk about him everyday like we used to, and our lives continue to move on. However, I still belong to that day. October 3, 2011. It's still engrained in my mind and carved into my heart. I'm doing OK. I can say that I lost my son and not cry. When I talk about Jack, my heart warms and my stomach does a little turn but the tears don't fall. But a part of me is still stuck on that day. It will always be where a piece of me remains. That piece of me can NEVER move forward, it can never go towards the future, it can never forget. That piece of me is still sobbing at the sight of a flat line. That piece of me is still in shock. That piece of me still feels the heaviness of my dead baby inside of me.