Two Years Have Passed and I Still Think of You

A single flame, it flickers again. I watch the little shadow dance it plays on the wall across the room. I sit here nursing my son, my rainbow, my hope after the storm. I'm not sure where my emotions want to go. In some sense I am in acceptance. I understand what happened, I accept and while I'll never forget, I can move on. In another sense, I'm still hurt, I'm pissed that it happened. I don't think the pain of losing you, the roller coaster of emotions from ultrasound to OR will ever go away. You came in like a tiny butterfly, you barely left more than a whisper on this earth, but baby you were a quake in mine. Though it all happened so quickly, you shook me to the core, you shifted my foundation. I moved so swiftly after we lost you. I numbed for a short time, then went right back to trying to be me, but the truth is, I wasn't me and I never would be the same again. I've spent this last year still trying to figure out how to grieve your loss. At times I hate myself for not being more gentle with myself in those early days and allowing the journey of grief to go. I guess this is my prolonged journey, I'm learning how I personally will experience each stage of grief. I skipped around, jumped over many, and now am seeing what each of these stages looks like. As Tucker, my rainbow glances up at me with sleepy eyes, I'm at peace. I would not have this baby in my arms if it wasn't for you, my angel. You, in your brief existence in my womb taught me so many lessons, I've grown because of you. Sweet angel, I know God had bigger plans for you, He had more plans for me too. While the rest of the world didn't connect with you, I did. I feel you every day. Thank you for all you've given me, taught me, I thank you. 

Two Years Have Passed and I Still Think of You

A single flame, it flickers again. I watch the little shadow dance it plays on the wall across the room. I sit here nursing my son, my rainbow, my hope after the storm. I'm not sure where my emotions want to go. In some sense I am in acceptance. I understand what happened, I accept and while I'll never forget, I can move on. In another sense, I'm still hurt, I'm pissed that it happened. I don't think the pain of losing you, the roller coaster of emotions from ultrasound to OR will ever go away. You came in like a tiny butterfly, you barely left more than a whisper on this earth, but baby you were a quake in mine. Though it all happened so quickly, you shook me to the core, you shifted my foundation. I moved so swiftly after we lost you. I numbed for a short time, then went right back to trying to be me, but the truth is, I wasn't me and I never would be the same again. I've spent this last year still trying to figure out how to grieve your loss. At times I hate myself for not being more gentle with myself in those early days and allowing the journey of grief to go. I guess this is my prolonged journey, I'm learning how I personally will experience each stage of grief. I skipped around, jumped over many, and now am seeing what each of these stages looks like. As Tucker, my rainbow glances up at me with sleepy eyes, I'm at peace. I would not have this baby in my arms if it wasn't for you, my angel. You, in your brief existence in my womb taught me so many lessons, I've grown because of you. Sweet angel, I know God had bigger plans for you, He had more plans for me too. While the rest of the world didn't connect with you, I did. I feel you every day. Thank you for all you've given me, taught me, I thank you. 

Two Years Have Passed and I Still Think of You

A single flame, it flickers again. I watch the little shadow dance it plays on the wall across the room. I sit here nursing my son, my rainbow, my hope after the storm. I'm not sure where my emotions want to go. In some sense I am in acceptance. I understand what happened, I accept and while I'll never forget, I can move on. In another sense, I'm still hurt, I'm pissed that it happened. I don't think the pain of losing you, the roller coaster of emotions from ultrasound to OR will ever go away. You came in like a tiny butterfly, you barely left more than a whisper on this earth, but baby you were a quake in mine. Though it all happened so quickly, you shook me to the core, you shifted my foundation. I moved so swiftly after we lost you. I numbed for a short time, then went right back to trying to be me, but the truth is, I wasn't me and I never would be the same again. I've spent this last year still trying to figure out how to grieve your loss. At times I hate myself for not being more gentle with myself in those early days and allowing the journey of grief to go. I guess this is my prolonged journey, I'm learning how I personally will experience each stage of grief. I skipped around, jumped over many, and now am seeing what each of these stages looks like. As Tucker, my rainbow glances up at me with sleepy eyes, I'm at peace. I would not have this baby in my arms if it wasn't for you, my angel. You, in your brief existence in my womb taught me so many lessons, I've grown because of you. Sweet angel, I know God had bigger plans for you, He had more plans for me too. While the rest of the world didn't connect with you, I did. I feel you every day. Thank you for all you've given me, taught me, I thank you. 

Tomorrow you wake up another year older. Another year of watching you grow and mature has passed. It's been another year of learning, of rolling with the punches, struggling with the ups and downs. Another year of laughter and tears. A year of smiles, tantrums, dancing, wipe outs, singing, and screaming. It's been another year of us, me, you, and our family. 

As I look at you, I still see such a tiny body, but a body filled with so many emotions. I see you struggling to gain a handle on how to express yourself. I see your ups when you try something new and do really great at it (like climbing the rock wall). I see your downs when you get in trouble (like pushing your brother). I've watched our relationship change, mold if you will, over this past year. I've watched our mother-daughter spats begin to form. I see your strong willed personality shine so bright. I see you push the limits with your free spirited self. Sometimes I get so frustrated with your toddler antics, I lose my patience with you, I struggle when you don't listen, but Little Miss, I LOVE YOU! I love us! I love how because you are our first, we get to grow together, learn together. We are both new at this. Every day we wake up we're new at it, I've never had a three year old before, and you've never been three. Tomorrow we start our venture again out in to a new world, a new year of learning, growing, achieving. A new year of struggles, tantrums, and meltdowns (by both of us I'm sure). Today I'll hold you tighter, I'll hug you longer, I'll be what you need me to be, I'll be the best I can be. Today we cherish your last day in the "twos." Today we hold hands, hug, laugh, cry and know that this ever changing relationship is just ours.