I’m having a hard time lately dealing with life. My heart is forever broken and that is a hard thing to live with everyday. I’ve been needing/wanting to just run away from everyone and everything for a long time now. Pretty much since we lost Renix. So for my birthday my amazing family made it possible for me to do that. We made it into our first family vacation, we brought Z and went swimming and watched kid movies and played candy land and made pillow forts, but the whole time, even while we were getting ready to leave my heart and my head know someone is missing from this family vacation. I have this never ending sense of something’s missing, because it is, a piece of me, my heart, my life… my son. He should be here with us going on this trip. He should be here playing in our pillow fort, I should be packing another suitcase but I’m not. Instead I hold his urn and cry and kiss him goodbye before we walk out the door and know he is watching us from above and with us in spirit. Someone said to me on saturday on my birthday “That’s why the sun is shining today, Renix is wishing you a happy birthday too.” I lost it and cried for quite a while in the car, but it was exactly what I needed to hear. That my son is with me. That he knows we are always thinking about him and that he knows how much we miss him.

I can’t help but think about where we were this time last year. I was pregnant and we knew there were complications or things could be tough, but I never ever ever in my worst nightmares could have been prepared for what happened. Christmas was coming soon, and I already had my c-section scheduled for the day after my dads birthday, and I was praying everyday that we would make it that far. We had hopes that this one was going to go better, that he was going to stay in longer and not have to go through what Z went through.

The holidays will never be the same for me. I am dreading December. I’m dreading every single day of that month. I remember the dates of every appointment, every heartbeat check, every ultrasound. From the beginning when we found out that I was getting signs of pre-eclampsia again.. to the middle when we had to go see a specialist because something could be wrong with him. To every single day, of puking and crying and praying and worrying about my little boy. Begging god to let him hold on as long as possible so he could survive. To the end… the day we found out his heart had stopped… and the last day of the year… his birthday… the day I got to hold my son for the first and last time, the day my world crumbled.. the day I had to be rushed into another emergency c-section because apparently my body wasn’t meant to grow babies.

The closer and closer it gets to December the harder and harder time I am having just wanting to get out of bed again. New Year’s Eve will never be an easily celebrated day for me anymore. Even as much as I would rather celebrate his life than mourn it I can not help but be overwhelmed with sadness knowing that it’s my sons birthday but he is not here to celebrate turning another year older. I don’t get to plan his party. We don’t get to do a fun photo shoot with our son for his 1 year birthday, we don’t get to plan a cake or tell people what he needs or wants as presents…. I’m going to cry because I’ll know it’s been a whole year without my son. A whole year of missed hugs, and kisses, cuddles, laughs and even dirty diapers sleepless nights and fussiness…. And every year, every day, every second is just another missed moment with my son, and I can’t seem to figure out how to get heart, and my brain, and my mind to accept that as fact. I probably never will.


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