Happy 2nd Birthday Gabriel

To my amazing beautiful boy... Happy 2nd birthday in heaven! Two years ago I was blessed to hold the most perfect angel in my arms. Today I celebrate your beautiful life as I do everyday. I will never forget the moment I first held you and the day we spent together. I wish we could have had more time together but I'm grateful for the months I carried you and for the chance to be your mom.

We love and miss you Gabriel! <3

Dear Poppy

Today was the day you were supposed to be born alive and healthy and perfect and beautiful. You were supposed to be the baby who came home with us. The one with pink skin and chubby cheeks. The one to restore joy where it's melted away. The one to grow up here on earth. The one to melt our hearts with your cries and laughter. You were supposed to be the one.

Of course today you're not being born. You died many months ago and I'm still not sure why. I don't know if I failed you or if I could have saved you. I don't know why you had to leave so soon.

I miss you and I miss who you could have been. I'm sad knowing that I'll never get to hold you or hear your voice or touch your skin. I'm lost because I have no answers. Just a deep void where you once filled my world with hope.

But today I am also feeling blessed. Because of you so much love and beauty has come into my life. You came to me at a time when I needed you and for that I will always be grateful. I may never be able to tell you that I love you or show you how much you mean to me, but you'll always hold a special place in my heart. I will never stop thinking about what you would have looked like or who you would have grown up to be.

I wish I was giving birth to you today. I wish I could sing you Happy Birthday and that your big brother could hold you on his lap and give you lots of kisses. I wish that everything could be different and I'm sorry that I never got to give you the beautiful life that I dreamed of giving you.

You are so very loved little one. You are missed and thought of often. And I will always and forever consider you one of the greatest gifts of my life.

The One Year Anniversary of His Due Date

Today is one of those days that I'm not sure how I should be feeling. It's not his birthday. It's not a day that I expect anyone to remember. It's not a day in which anything significant occurred. In actuality, it's just an estimate of when he would have been born had he gestated for exactly 40 weeks.

But still it's one of those days that will always mean something to me. It will always represent what could have been if things had gone the way I wanted them to. More than that, it will always be the anniversary of the day I looked forward to for several months. The day that promised me a child and the beginning of a beautiful new life.

Part of me feels sad because that day never came. Because everything was perfect and then something changed and that day was erased from my life. But part of me feels like I should take joy from what that day represented. Because it had the potential to be the best day of my life.

Irregardless of the meaning of today, whatever that may end up being, for now it is simply a date that I associate with Gabriel. For many weeks I counted down to October 3, 2012 as I anxiously awaited the birth of our baby. I remember when it felt so far away, so unattainable. I remember thinking that time was moving at an unbearably slow pace. How strange that now it feels like an entire lifetime ago.

I suppose that's partially why acknowledging these anniversaries feels necessary. Anniversaries place little bookmarks on the important moments in our lives so that when we flip through the pages of our past, we know exactly where to turn first. They highlight the significant moments, the days we want to remember over and over again. Some days are marked for the events that took place during them. And others, for what never did.

A New Tradition

Starting the month after Gabriel died, for one year, my husband and I released balloons on or around the 19th of every month as a way to celebrate Gabriel's one month birthdays. Releasing balloons became something of a monthly tradition that helped us to remember Gabriel in a meaningful way and it also became a source of healing. Honestly, I'm not sure why I found it so therapeutic. I suppose it was partially the time and work that went into buying the balloons and driving to a nice place to release them. I think it just felt good to physically do something once a month that revolved around Gabriel. It was a brief pause each month from normal life that allowed us both to do something to parent our child together, to keep him alive in our hearts and to make sure he was remembered on his special day. And for awhile it felt really important and necessary.

But now that the first year is over and I'm in a new place in my grief journey, I feel that monthly balloon releases probably won't be as healing and meaningful as they originally were. I mostly associate balloon releases with the weeks that followed Gabriel's death when they gave us an outlet to grieve at a time in our lives when we were lost and hopeless. Since that time, I've worked really hard to grow and progress on this journey and I hope that I can continue moving forward. I also feel like the guilt of harming the environment and potentially hurting or killing wild animals overshadows any healing I would experience. I just don't want to cause any further destruction or suffering on our planet especially after a year of learning to appreciate and finding joy in nature.

Therefore, as we move forward into our second year without Gabriel, I wanted to start a new tradition that would better reflect where I am now. So instead of monthly balloon releases, my husband and I decided that each month on or close to the 19th, we're going to go to the beach and watch the sunset together. I think this tradition will continue to help us heal and will give us a chance to remember Gabriel and honor his life in a peaceful and meaningful way that doesn't entail polluting the earth.

Last night we started this new tradition by celebrating Gabriel's 14 month birthday at the beach. It was a warm summer evening and the sunset could not have been more gorgeous. We lit candles and wrote his name in the sand and watched the birds flying over the sea. It was all so lovely, like the start of something new and wonderful.

29 weeks + 2 days

Today marks 29 weeks and 2 days since Gabriel died, which means that he has lived in Heaven 1 day longer than he lived here on earth.

Today the scale has been tipped, the balance forever broken. The other world has had my baby for more time than me, and that variance will only become more and more skewed in their favor. Soon, Heaven will have had him for twice as long, then three times, then an eternity more than me.

I remember when I was pregnant, how time seemed to stretch itself. I thought I would be pregnant forever. The days just couldn't move fast enough.

And now... 29 weeks and 2 days later, time is moving so quickly, I can barely keep up.

It's funny how time works. When the greatest day lies ahead, time crawls. But when the greatest day lies in the past, time bursts into a sprint.

Time is such a beautiful and cruel mystery. Taking us both to and from our happiest moments, but never allowing us to stay there for quite long enough. A constant reminder that everything has a limit.

One day I'm going to look back and I won't be able to measure time in weeks and days, or even months. It will be 3, 4, 5... 29 years - since Gabriel died.

How I wish I could measure time any other way...

Six Months Without You

For Gabriel, My Love

Though the seasons have turned
And time's persisted
On
Though so much has changed
And so many have
Gone

My love has not withered
Its vine tethered to my
Heart
I've a branch for every moment
That we've endured
Apart

My love had no birth
I have always loved
You
Wherever you are dearest one
My heart is there
Too

My love is forever
More eternal, more abiding
And
More impossible to measure
Than the grains that form the
Sand

For you, my love shall
Always
Be
More immense, more constant
Than the deepest, widest
Sea

My love for you
Means we'll never
Live
Separated more years
Than mortality can
Give

And though my love can't bring you here
It promises to show me the
Way
I'll come to where you're waiting; I will find you
One glorious
Day