Two years ago Momma was steeling herself for her first Mother's Day without you on earth. It's hard to remember and describe how empty my arms felt that first year...arms that longed to hug, hold and carry her little boy. A little boy who will forever be frozen in time at 16.5 months old. A little boy who will always be my first son, the child who taught me to be a Momma.
It is because of you and the love you opened in our hearts that Momma and Dadda were trying desperately to conceive a child through every trick of science, every miracle of love, faith and hope. Two years ago we feared that even if we were fortunate enough to successfully conceive, was Momma's body - a body so immersed in sorrow and grief that it permeated every fiber, every molecule of my heart and soul - strong enough to develop and grow a baby?
Two years ago Momma also discovered an interesting side effect of her personal grief process: intense, situational claustrophobia. It reared its ugly head as we attempted to board a flight to Florida to escape St. Louis for the Mother's Day holiday. To take the trip to Sanibel Island that we never got to take with you. As Momma stepped onto the plane a panic attack set in and we immediately had to exit the flight. A second attempt, later in the day, was equally unsuccessful which Momma took as a signal - we need to be home, surrounded by reminders of you, for this holiday.
Two years ago, throughout Mother's Day weekend, I was visited by butterflies, tiny frogs, and a flutter in my tummy that eventually grew into The Pickle. Your little brother, who is now almost 16 months old. Peanut, he will reach 16.5 months at the end of this month...and he will be with us for 501 days on June 1. Momma isn't sure how she feels about that - or how that first day of June is going to feel. Will I be relieved? Feel a sense of accomplishment? Or, will it pass without notice or event?
As we prepare for Mother's Day, this Momma is celebrating her children on earth and in heaven. We will look to the sky, maybe even release two balloons in remembrance of you, Peanut, and also the little sister who would have been Pickle's twin. We will listen for your laughter on the wind, and will feel your warmth in the sunshine. More than anything, we will embrace and cherish our family, our angels, and our love.
Peanut, thank you for the wisdom, joy and love you shared during your all-too-short time on earth with us. Momma misses you every day, but my heart feels your presence in everything we experience. And I know I will see you again. Until then, I am sending you love, smiles, butterfly kisses, and Peanut hugs to the moon - and back!
|My favorite picture of me and Peanut, taken during his 1-year photos.|