Five months ago today I said goodbye to my baby.
Five months I carried him in my womb.
Five months he lived with cancer.
In the last five months I have painted the kitchen and living room. I painted the garage. I started volunteering and then began a new job. We took two vacations and bought a new car.
But his room is still the same and I still sleep with his taggie blanket. His diaper bag is still packed and ready and my toiletries still live in a bag on the bathroom floor. His sippy cup is still half full of the water he last drank and his bed is still made with the last sheets he slept upon.
It feels like five years then it feels like five minutes. Time is supposed to help but all it does is takes him further and further away from me. I want so much for these five months to be helpful and healing but I find myself hating them and wishing for it to stop. So at least I can say, “I only lost him yesterday. It’s ok that it’s still so hard.”
But I don’t think five years will make it easy. Nothing will make it easy. I tell myself every day that I am the luckiest mom in the world because I had him. But God Damn It I miss him so much. So much. So much.
And today it hurts. After five months it hurts as much as it did the day I lost him.