It’s 11pm…a time when lately, my 11 weeks pregnant self would be nearly passed out from pure exhaustion.
But tonight, my eyes are too filled with tears to close them. Thoughts of you…missing you, loving you, regretting every decision I ever made…
8 years ago today, I’m sure I was also having a sleepless night. April 1st. I knew you’d be here just days later. I wanted you to have the coolest birthday ever, so I asked to be induced on a specific date, which happened to be your due date anyway.
8 years ago today, I knew I had less than 3 days left with you all to myself. The first day of April, it meant we were nearly there. Nearly at the finish line…nearly time to hold you, only to let you go.
I let you go at for the final time at 5 days old, and haven’t been able to hug you since.
I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. I’ve hated myself every second that I’ve had to walk this life without you.
I wish I could go back to 8 years ago today, when you were still with me, safe inside me. A boy with his mom, right where he’s supposed to be.
I’ve got 2 other boys now, and a baby on the way. Being pregnant right now is…it’s misery. It’s pure misery. I love this baby with all of me, but right now, all I want is to go back. I wish it could be him, I wish it was my birth son.
8 years ago today, I still had my soul intact. I thought it would be easier, I thought I could get through this year unscathed. But my nightmares tell me otherwise.
I see you in my dreams every night now, my sweet boy. The only place where you exist freely to me is in my head. But it’s not enough, it never will be. Glimpses of you through closed eyes will never heal a broken heart.
It only breaks it further. A bitter reminder of what I’ll never have.
You’ll never be mine in the way that I wish you were. And I’ll never be able to forgive myself for that.
I hope you know how much I love you. I hope you got your gifts.
Shit. This fucking hurts.
I don’t think I can do it this year…I really fucking don’t.
(((I love you always, but tonight I love you extra)))