Six years ago, I carried you safely in my belly. You were tiny, and so was I. I had no idea that in a few short weeks, I would welcome you into the world. I planned for that homecoming to be months away. At that moment, six years ago, I just waited patiently for you to move, so I could feel you. But I never did.
The first time I saw you, I placed my finger inside the tiny, plastic door, into your miniature hand. Your head was smaller than my fist, your entire body shorter than my foot. But you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Through the wires and tubes, I saw my nose on your face, and daddy’s brow above your eyes. At just over one pound, you were the perfect combination of our perfect love.
Six years ago, I wore maternity clothes, though my weight was all water. A sign of preeclampsia I did not yet know would strike. I celebrated the new year, photographing my sweet family toasting at midnight, while I happily abstained from the champagne. This year would be our best year. The year we welcomed our first, beautiful son to our world.
And Baby, though it was a tough year, with ten months in NICU, and constant worry and fear, it was the best year. It was a year we had with you. A year I would not trade for the moon. A year I’d give just about anything to have back. That beautiful, perfect, unforgettable year. With you.
And as we embark on the sixth year since you graced this Earth, and the third since you’ve made your journey to Heaven – Baby, I want you to know – you are still so much a part of who I am.
I am a mother because of you. I am a survivor because of you. I am who I am, because of you. And I am far from perfect. I am terribly flawed and I am horribly heartbroken. But I have a capacity to love and succeed and be better, because of you. Every moment of every day I think of you and if you are proud of who I am today, without you on this Earth. And every day I ask myself, is this good enough for him? Am I good enough for him?
I don’t know. But I will keep trying. Because I know you are watching, and you are hearing, and you are knowing all that goes on. And I just want to be good enough for you.
Six years ago, I carried you in my belly. Today, I carry you in my heart. I love you, Baby.
2 thoughts on “Six years”
So beautifully written, so full of strength and truth; what a tribute to your brave little warrior…..and yourself.
Thank you, Tia. He was a brave little warrior and an even brighter more beautiful star shining down on all of us each and every day.