Every year, as May comes around with all it’s beautiful sunshine and flowers, it brings with it a lingering feeling in my heart that a tiny piece of it is missing.

When my son’s first “birthday” came the details were all so clear! Although there were tears, I was able to celebrate as I could still feel the joy that I felt on the day he was born. I could still remember what he looked like without pulling out the pictures. I could remember the way the room felt that day…like God was all over it!

A few months before his second “birthday,” I went into labor for a third time with another precious baby girl. Just entering the hospital gave me flashbacks of my last birth…his birth. I was emotional and scared, but when our little girl began crying…the tears started flowing down both mine and my husband’s faces. We celebrated his birthday that year, with arms and hearts full of rejoicing despite the pain.

But as May approached a few weeks ago, I  decided that because I had experienced so much healing, the thoughts of him and his beautiful story just had to go.

Our lives are so busy right now. We have so many exciting things happening!

I just wanted to be excited and happy about all that was going on. I thought thinking about our son would cause unnecessary sadness.

In the back of my mind though, I couldn’t get away from it. It kept eating at me….that this day would come no matter what. After all, it is on the calendar every year (haha.)

I wanted to ignore it. I tried so very hard to ignore it.

Because I could feel the memories had faded, and I didn’t know how I could keep remembering him. It seemed like it would be easier (less sad) if I could just not think about it.

 

The thing is…

I guess, I just don’t understand what moving on means for me. I don’t want to dwell on something (I don’t think I am) and I certainly don’t want to feel sorry for myself.

I realize the length of time that has passed.  Like I said before, it feels longer to me than almost anyone it seems!

I realize unlike in the past, when it was all still fresh, that many people won’t think about or remember his “birthday” this year. I’m sure his grave will not be as visited, and I’ll receive less phone calls. It’s a part of life, and it’s normal. I’m just not sure what my normal is?

I sat in my chair this week thinking…

Why do the thoughts have to come? Why can’t I be like everyone else?

The rawness and emotions aren’t there…the memories are fading…but somehow I can’t let it go.

And then something happened.

 

Ava blowing out the candle for Wesley's 1st birthday

Ava blowing out the candle for Wesley’s 1st birthday

 

One comment on “From the windowsill (2 of 3)

  • Great words Natasha. I enjoy reading your “Amazing Journey”. Thinking of all of you and love you.

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