The last eleven days have, by far, been the most difficult of my life. My children are so close, yet so far. I have been doing my best to not allow the sorrow to swallow me whole and it is not always easy.
To hear my baby tell me he wants things “…back in order” was crippling. I could not tell him everything was going to be ok. All I could tell him was that I loved him and that I missed him too. I let him know when our next visit would be. I told him I was sad that he was sad, and how much I loved him. That’s all I could do. I could not bring comfort to the baby I spent 23 weeks on bed rest for. I could not take away the tears of my baby boy. I cried myself to sleep that night.
I started the new phase of this journey by posting “Day one: I feel _____ .” on my Facebook profile. People filled in the blank. Day two was I am: _____ . Each day has been a different sentence starter. The responses have been overwhelming and more often than not bring tears of happiness and heartbreak at the same time. It is so encouraging to know that my friends and family have my back through this all.
My kids are facing challenges that seem agonizingly insumountable. I can be confident that I have given them the tools to speak, the strength to cry, the security to question authority.
This post has taken me all day to write, and I am not even going to reread or edit it before posting. I’m just going to post it as it is.
Bug, Bubba, and Bum…I love you to the moon and back. I love you more than Skittles. I love you forty hundred and eighty seventy.