You know those flashbacks you get from the photo sites? The ones that will sporadically email or alert you with a little message, “Flashback: Here’s what you were doing last year on this date.”
Super fun. Maybe, for some. But for me, I keep getting them at inopportune times. And for some reason, they always pick this day four years ago. This day four years ago was filled with photos of my then 18-month-old son, now my angel in Heaven.
This day four years ago, we were vacationing on the beach with a little man who was finally free of oxygen tanks and tubes, healthy enough to travel, who was learning to roll over, and feeling the sand in his toes for the very first time.
This day four years ago I was navigating a new normal of first time parenting, loving and caring for a child recently discharged after ten months in NICU, and walking a fine line of over-protecting, and keeping a fragile, near-infant-blossoming-toddler safe, happy, and healthy.
Four years ago today.
Today, here I am, raising a new, tiny human, who I never could have imagined in my most wild predictions would have been a part of my world. A new little man in my life. Not my first born. Not mine by birth or blood. But mine, all the same.
Today, I am loving this little man with a heart I never thought would be whole again.
Today, my broken heart, torn by the loss of my first born, is growing every day with a love I never knew was possible. A love that has taken every day to nurture and grow since this little man was placed in my care. A love that is not easy, nor natural even, but takes immeasurable strength, patience, and gratitude to accomplish.
A love, that this heart – this broken, battered, and beaten heart – is big enough to hold. Because of my angel in Heaven, and because of my angel on Earth.