*Disclaimer* This post probably won’t be rational. I’m putting my stream of consciousness here, for better or for worse. It is what it is, and I’ll leave it at that.
Monday, at 0444 Alex will be 2. I want Monday to be his day, not clouded by my continued healing/grieving/whatever you want to call it. My little boy is amazing, and he deserves that day to be all his.
Two years ago our lives changed. While largely for the better, since the events of that day lead us to a healthier lifestyle and greater appreciation for life (how hokey does that sound?), I still grieve for what I lost. Mostly I lost a year give or take of my sons life. It took me that long to bond with him, to see him as “mine”. While rationally I knew he was mine, there was so much disconnect between us. I look at pictures, and some of the memories remain, but others I just see this little baby who I didn’t know. I can’t get that back. I don’t think people realize how important birth is, how important it is to be present, to have all of those biological processes work in harmony. I missed out on his birth, being able to breastfeed him, and really truly bonding with my newborn. Yes, I had a healthy baby and I survived but if I hear that again I’m going to punch someone in the face. None of that takes away from my loss.
I’m trying not to dwell, but when this time of year comes around I can’t help but get a little down. Each year will get easier, and the scars will fade but for now I’ll just take it as it comes.
If you would like to read the original birth story you can find it here.