Dear son,
Today, you turned 10 years old.
Despite the fact that absolutely nothing about today went right, I still did what I always do on April 4th each year.
Listened to my songs that remind me of you. Thought of you ALL day long. Carried you with me, and honored you in every way that I could.
I woke up in my own bed this morning, after driving home from the hospital last night.
I went to therapy from 8-10. Literally the only good part of my day.
I quickly ate, packed up, and headed back to the hospital by 11:45am. My husband, who had stayed in the hospital with the baby so that I could come home, got a migraine, and I had to rush back to take over and bring him medicine.
This was not how I envisioned spending his birthday…..your birthday.
Nothing about today went how I wanted it to.
His gift somehow got redirected and returned to sender for an “incomplete address”…no idea how that happened. My husband felt awful, and sent a same day gift basket with flowers and balloons and stuff in its place…so something would be there for him today. I appreciated the gesture.
I didn’t get to spend a quiet, introspective few hours by myself. And no, I don’t consider my 2 hour commute back to the hospital to be just that.
Not a single person, outside of my best friend, my therapist, and my husband acknowledged his birthday. Yes, this was partially my doing…as I couldn’t bring myself to mention it. But still. My family? They should know. They should know the date. And they could’ve said something.
I didn’t get a new necklace like I wanted, like I’ve been so desperately wanting. A birthstone necklace…with 4 stones on it, one for all of my boys. My birth son included.
I didn’t spend the day feeling loved and taken care of and….I don’t know…treated like I was an expensive glass creation, teetering on the edge of falling off and shattering.
I spent today feeling sad and alone. So full of feelings that they couldn’t even spill out. Like a pressure cooker, but the only thing keeping the lid on is the hot steamy water. And as soon as there’s a break in the seal…bam. It all comes out. All at once.
That’s how I am. That’s how I feel.
I’m running a marathon without legs.
I’m climbing a mountain in a bathing suit.
I’ve entered a hot dog eating contest right after gastric bypass surgery.
I’m a beekeeper with an anaphylactic reaction to bee stings.
Are we getting the picture here? I’m in a bad spot.
I feel an insurmountable amount of grief. It’s literally making me feel sick to my stomach.
Son, today you turned 10 years old. And nothing about the day went how I wanted it to. I did my best for you. I always have, and I always will. You will remain my priority, no matter how much it hurts. You will always have my heart. All of it. When you need it, and when you don’t.
Son…I can’t put into words the feelings that I have. I’m not strong enough right now to feel them. But I will show up for you.
I know you’re just like me. Your parents told me all about it. And not for the first time. But I already know that. I see your pictures…and I know. I see me in you. I see a lot of myself in you.
You’d give me a run for my money, that I know for sure.
You’re living your best life. I love that for you. It’s what I wanted. Want.
I don’t know what else to say, other than telling you that I miss you. I miss you more than Webster himself has enough words to articulate.
10 years.
10 years ago, you made me a mom.
There’s not a single detail about that day that I’ve forgotten.
There are more hard days…the 6th and the 9th. But today….today was the hardest of them all.
There’s no amount of busyness to keep me from these hard…impossible feelings.
I’m trying to shove them down…trying to be stronger than I’m capable of being.
But I’m ready to fall apart.
I need to fall apart.
(((I miss you always, but today I miss you extra)))
