From the moment we lost you and I started thinking about all of the milestones with you that we’d miss, milestones that would be difficult, today was one of the ones that topped my list. And ever since last month there’s been a little countdown in my head, thinking about this day.
I had 9 months with you. 9 perfect months.
And now, it’s so hard to believe that I’ve survived 9 months without you.
It’s hard for me to articulate why this one is so hard. If this journey has a tipping point, a day when the timeline of grieving shifts, today feels like the day. It’s like, since losing you, in terms of time, I’ve still been closer to the time we were together. And now, every day after today takes me further away from you. On the timeline of us, I’m entering the longest part. I’m no longer closer to the time I carried you inside me. To the time I rocked you in my arms. To the time I kissed your sweet face. Cried tears over the little bundle of you swaddled in blankets.
From this day forward, I will always be one day further away from the physical you.
And that scares me.
I remember your birth day so vividly. And yet, at the same time, I have a harder time recalling the light weight of you in my arms. The smell of you. The softness of your dark hair.
I try so hard to hold on to that, but it’s not easy. And I know, as time moves on, I’ll only have these distant memories of you.
We’ll continue to make memories with you. In a different way. Like the Butterfly Release last weekend (wasn’t that fun?). Or moments like now, when I sit with you at the cemetery. Just me and you. With the wind blowing strong. The sun on my face. All reminders you’re here.
I’ve spent all day thinking of you.
Worrying about this moment. Sitting here with you. Knowing after today, time takes us further apart.
I just hope you know that my 9 months with you physically here were quite possibly the best 9 months of my life. And these last 9 months of knowing you apart from me have been so hard. But, I’d live these 9 months over and over and over again if the alternative was never having you at all.
I love you, sweet boy.
Happy 9 months.