Just like *that* - it's April.
In 25 days, he would be celebrating his 2nd birthday.
We would be celebrating our birthdays together....just a day apart.
I would see him blow out his candles, run around and play with his friends, open the tons of presents he would have gotten, kissed sweet, icing-covered cheeks, and given big hugs to my big boy. If only he were here.
All of the would-have-beens are getting to me.
I drift between anger and extreme sadness....and just wishing he was still here.
It's incredibly unfair. I've never claimed to but completely into the whole "there was a purpose" outlook. Part of me knows, and tries to believe that, but the other part of me....the mother who lost her baby....the mother who had to hear the words no mother should ever be told....the young woman who lost so much innocence that day....that part of me just stomps and yells and says, it just isn't fair. I want so badly to just feel the weight of him in my arms again....to hear his sweet, soft voice (which is so different from his brother's deep, husky voice)....to cuddle him against my chest as he slept....to see that smile one more time.
I see pictures of my friends' children...pictures of their first, second, third year....birthday parties....documenting their lives. I let out a big sigh because all I have is 4 months. 4 months of pictures and videos. I'll never have another new picture or video of him. No update. Only 4 months....it's just not enough. Then again, 100 years wouldn't be enough....when it's your child. April is a hard month. And it only gets harder as the 27th approaches. I want to focus on celebrating instead of mourning, but that's easier said than done when the child you're celebrating isn't here to receive it all.
Grieving has been strange since Collen has joined us. I continue to grieve; I'll grieve for the rest of my life. But, I haven't been able to allow myself to grieve as freely as I once could because he does occupy so much of my time. You know the saying, "Teaching is 90% performance."? Well, sometimes, parenting has to be performance. You have to put on a strong face, or a happy face (in the midst of whining, crying, fit-throwing), and you have to put on a calm face in the midst of worry or stress. I guess that type of performance is protection....but anyway...you get what I'm saying. I've had to comparmentalize my grief, so now when I let it out, it rushes out because it has been held back for so long. Those are hard, hard days.
A 2nd child doesn't fix anything...in case anyone was wondering. A 2nd child doesn't make it easier. But a 2nd child keeps you busy, and you're able to put your mommy skills to work....skills you definitely don't take for granted. Collen isn't Ayden.....not by a long shot, so I definitely feel his absence. In the mornings, when Collen is still sleeping, I lie in bed watching him and listening.....imaging hearing Ayden stirring across the house in his room. Wondering what life would be like with both of them and knowing it would be so beautifully complete.
So, April is here, and it will push us forward whether we like it or not.
At least we're another April closer to being with Ayden again. In that, I can find some comfort.