Today I feel compelled to write. I am not sure what to say… I never do. It always seems to be the same old thing; he should be here.
Two days have gone by since tears fell from my face… everything seems to be quantitative. Two days may not seem like much, but to me it seems like progress. As I pound on this keyboard and tears stream down my cheeks, I know I’m taking a step backwards but in my heart I know that I will always miss him. I am looking to the days when his name will be synonymous with laughter and happy times. One day, they’ll be what I remember most. I have to think that… I have to.
Fifty-two days have passed since he left us. That means fifty-two days since he was in my arms. Its been a roller coaster of emotions. David reminds me to find happiness in our older two sons; to make new memories with them. He has no idea how much strength he gives me. He is my rock.
Sometimes I find myself feeling too much. I’ve been angry at the military police that initially arrived at our home for not allowing me to hold my lifeless son one last time at the hospital. It is a constant feeling. I know “they were just doing their job” (that’s what people say) but they lacked compassion; compassion for a family that just took on an unwieldy burden. They lacked the foresight to know that I would never again get to hold Chris in my arms. My biggest regret since I lost him was following the rules of those soldiers. I should have held him. I should have showered him with affection. After all, he is my son.
Mother’s Day has come and gone and for that I am very grateful. I was not at all prepared for the avalanche of emotion that came over me, despite my best efforts to stay busy that day. My husband treated me like a queen. We made memories with my cousins and set plans to make more. I couldn’t have asked for a better start to Mother’s Day. As we drove home from my cousin’s house in Kansas City, I wept for what felt like the entire drive. I wept for our loss. I wept for my sweet Christopher. I begged Christ to show me the purpose of all of this. And as usual, David never stopped letting me know he loves me.
What really bothered me on Mother’s Day was the harsh reality that I’ll never experience pregnancy again for my body is no longer equipped. We’ll never hear the laughter of baby in our home again. I don’t know if I could ever feel comfortable with an infant in our home but I’ll never get the chance to find out. It should be made very clear that Christopher could never, EVER be replaced and we would never want to. But, as other families in our same situation move forward and expand their families, I will be left asking God “What’s next?”
One thing is for certain. God placed the most magnificent people in our lives to help us carry this heavy load. We couldn’t do this alone. Each person contributes something beautiful to our lives and we are eternally grateful. We could never express our appreciation enough.
Despite all that we’ve been through, I have to believe in a loving, heavenly father. I have to because now he has my Christopher in his care until David or I get there.