All I Know

As the months go by, it's getting increasingly harder to imagine what he would look like. He was such a tiny little thing when he was born that there's just no possible way to know what he would have looked like as an almost-12 month old baby. It saddens me to know that I probably wouldn't even recognize him if I were to see him today. He'd be crawling, giggling, curiously eyeing the world through big brown eyes. He'd have lots of dark hair and chubby cheeks. He would have his own set of baby teeth and would be snacking on Cheerios and bananas. But who he would be is a person that sadly, I'll never know.

He doesn't have a favorite toy or a favorite book. He doesn't love to sing or dance. He doesn't have a first word. He isn't a happy baby or a squirmy baby or any kind of baby. He's my son, my very own flesh and blood, but I don't know him. All I know is that no matter who he would have been, I would have done anything to make him happy. I would have held his hand as he struggled to take his first steps. I would have cuddled him close during the difficult weeks of teething. I would have read him his favorite story ten times a day. I would have taken him to the beach and dipped his feet in the water. I would have shown him the birds and the flowers and the clouds.

In my mind, there's a long list of things I would have loved to do with him. But really it's the little things that I wish for the most. If only I could have heard him cry, or watched him wake up in the early morning, or taught him how to say "mama," then maybe, just maybe I would have some understanding of who he is.

There's so much that I'll never know.

All I know is that I love him with my whole heart.

And that I would do anything to have him back.