Two Years

Today marks two years.  Two years since you entered this world an angel.  Two years since our lives were completely torn apart and the world crashed around us.  It has been two years of trying to cope with loss and grief.  Two years of people not quite understanding what you feel and not understanding why you feel it.  Two years of moving forward.

I'm not exaggerating when I say that I think about you every day.  Some days it's just a passing thought, but no matter how small it is there.  Some days I still cry.  Usually it's in the car as I'm driving; tears that stay hidden from anyone else's knowledge.  I go through flashbacks more often than I care to admit and this last month has been a killer.  Some nights I have nightmares when I relive the moments that stood out the most in my mind. The doctor with the news, the moment you were born, the silence. Feeling your body grow cold in my arms. These things have lessened as time has passed but they haven't gone away.  I don't think they ever will.

Two years of anxiety.  I've suffered this as a result of going through a traumatic experience so says a counselor.  I worry about losing people. I worry about your Daddy when he drives to work each day. I pray for about 30 minutes a night thanking God for the people I have now and begging him not to take them away.  I check on your sister an unhealthy amount of times each night.  I can't sleep without the shine of the monitor and I listen to her breathe and am reminded of watching the ultrasound screen - praying so hard during every appointment that when they turned it on she would be alive.

Two years of changing.  I've changed from the person I was. I knew that as soon as I had you.  I never knew I could love someone as much as I fell in love with you.  What you did for me was make me a better person.  A person who looks at life as a gift. A person who takes more in. A person who lets moments linger longer than most.

I don't doubt that I would have been a good Mom to you.  I think I would have done fine.  We would have laughed often, been amazed as you met your milestones, read good night books, been silly together and enjoyed each other's company. I would have loved you more with every day, just as I do now. However; what you have taught me is appreciation.  I don't think I would have appreciated you as much as I do your sister now that I know what it means not to have you.  I can honestly say that I have never been frustrated with having to get up with her in the night. If I hear her cry the first thing that comes to my mind is, "At least she's alive".  I look at her and wonder so much about you and am so thankful for her that it hurts.  I know that every Mom loves her child an incredible amount, but I think it's a different set of emotions that you have when you've gone through what we did. It's a different lens that I now view life through. Your sister and I's relationship is different, your Daddy and I's relationship is so much stronger, and we owe that to you.  You bonded our family together and changed our entire outlook on life.

Easton, I know you're in a better place but I still wish you were here with me. I'm working on something special for you and it will all be in your honor.  Hopefully, more progress will be made in the next year and we can start helping others cope with the loss that we experienced.  I love you and will always love you.  Your light will always be present and you will never be far from my thoughts.  Thank you for choosing me to be your Mommy.  Thank you for being my son.  Happy Birthday, baby boy.  To the moon and back again.