Happy two-month birthday, love. It’s hard to believe that you made your entrance into this world two months ago. Sometimes it feels like yesterday, sometimes it feels like it was ages ago.
We’ve been doing okay, but some moments are so hard. Realizing that you’re really gone and won’t be returning is the hardest part. I think I was in such a state of shock for a while after you died that it hadn’t really sunk in, despite the heartbreak we were both feeling. We talked last week about how you have made us realize how strong our relationship is, and you’ve helped us to be better parents. Even though nobody will ever replace you, we hope to have another baby as soon as we can, and we know that you would want that for us. We’ll be better parents to that baby because of everything you taught us. You did so much for us in your short life. You changed us forever, for the better.
I’ve been thinking lately about whether or not I would have made different decisions if I had known how soon your life would end and how much pain your death would cause for Daddy and me. I know that we would have made the same choices because we wouldn’t want to have missed out on the time we had with you. The only thing that would change my thoughts on that is knowing that you may have been suffering and in pain, but the doctors and nurses did everything they could to make sure you were not in pain, so I’m comfortable with that. I’d do it all over again for the amazing experience of being your mother.
I wouldn’t be surviving this without your daddy. Sometimes I feel guilty about my pain causing more pain and worry for him, but we’re in this together, so it is what it is. Sometimes, when I see him from the side, I see a flash of you. It takes my breath away. Even though the nurses said you got my nose (thank goodness), I see your profile when I look at his, especially your chin. Sometimes I stare at his chin while he’s sleeping (I promise, it’s not as creepy as it sounds), and I lie there smiling as I remember you.
Every now and then, I sit here and imagine what would be happening if you were still here. I think about how big you would be and all of the progress you would have made by now. Sometimes it feels like I’m torturing myself, but the escape from reality warms my heart like nothing else. I also like to think about the actual time we had together. I can still feel your tiny fist near my neck as I held you, and I remember feeling like you were trying to burrow yourself into my skin. It’s amazing that the best and worst times of my life are all the same moments.
I love you with all my heart, Jilly bear. I will never stop missing you