It’s been one year.
One year since our lives changed forever. And not in the way we were expecting it to. One year since I felt you kick for what would be the last time. One year since we heard those shocking words “I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat”. One year since you came into this world, already gone. One year since those 8,311 minutes we spent with you. I know that exact number because your daddy now has it tattooed on his wrist, on his arm that is dedicated to you, where your sleepy head should be resting instead. One year since I laid you in your casket, surrounded you with some of your special teddies and trinkets and looked away as your grandad and papa closed the lid.
We made it through. And to be honest, reliving the anniversaries of those days wasn’t as crippling as we were preparing ourselves for. Why? I think because as we recounted our steps from the 12 months before, from the moment you had died, you were still with us. You were still inside me. The day you were born is a special memory for us. Heartbreaking, yes but you were finally here, in our arms. We had some beautiful family moments in those 8,311 minutes. Feeling whole, complete. But far from it. Wrapped up in that newborn bubble. Because believe it or not, we still felt all of the things other first time parents feel. We were proud parents doting over our beautiful baby. But with a great amount of disbelief and shock and pain and fear and pure heartache at what the fuck had just happened. What was taken from us. What kind of future lay ahead of us.
Reliving all of that, a year on, brought back those same feelings.. Pride, joy, bliss, disbelief, shock, pain, fear & heartache.
The anniversary of our last day with you hurt the most. It hit me all of a sudden. My baby is dead. I fell into a heap and spent that day in bed. My heart hurts. I yearn for you. To hold you again. To stare at your beautiful face. And to feel your big soft feet. This time a year ago I could not have imagined surviving this moment without you in my arms. How did we get here? How is this our life? It’s just not fair.
The thing about life for us now is no matter how much joy we may feel in any moment, it is still tainted by your absence. Nothing feels completely right. Simply walking down the street. Putting something in the back seat of the car, where your car seat should be. Nothing we do will ever make this right again. Our family is forever missing someone. The future will never be what it should be. We can’t bring you back in the form of another child. It does not work that way. A year passes since we last held you and the hole in our heart is still there. Raw. The only thing we can look towards is being closer to when we can hold you again. And that is all we can hope for. Is that, that is how it all works out in the end.
A whole year without you. This just isn’t right.