Happy Birthday

My Dearest Heath,

Today, you would have turned 3. I can’t tell you how hard these three years have been. It feels like a million years. And then again, it feels like hours. I have relived every minute of your life over and over again over all this time and you are never far from my thoughts.

I don’t think that you are far from the thoughts of Daddy, Noah or Avery either. Daddy and Noah never say very much but Avery is quick to talk about you. If you only knew how much you mean to her. She carries your blue bear around a lot and talks about celebrating your birthday. She talks about you being with Zoe too. She wonders why you had to go and I wish I had an answer for her. I wish I had answers for myself.

Because of losing you, I find myself hovering over Noah and Avery even more. I apologize to them for it all the time and try to reel it in, with very little success. Life goes on for everyone else, but me, it doesn’t take but a fraction of a second to stop and be right back to October of 2016.

I’m so frustrated by the complications that come from you missing from our life. The complicated answers to questions, the difficult feelings (which I’ve never been good at), the fear of losing Noah, Avery or Daddy, or dreading this time of year… the list can go on and on.

I wish we were having a birthday party with a bounce house instead of cupcake at the cemetery (at the insistence of Avery). I wish that I had at least one picture of all 5 of us. I wish that I wasn’t trying to figure out a way to distract Noah over the fact that you died 5 days before his birthday. I wish, I wish, I wish. I could fill the Grand Canyon with the things I wish.

I also have all the wonders. I wonder who you would be. Would you be like me or Daddy? Noah or Avery? I know how I picture you. The little boy that I see in my mind looks like Noah but is fiery like Avery. I will never know if that is in any way accurate, but that’s who I see in my dreams. A little blonde boy with bright blue eyes that loves to run and is as stubborn as those before you (that you obviously got from your Dad). Who wiggles out of my arms when I try to kiss you and sneaks into our bed at night. Obviously, that’s what I have created to give myself some comfort (or to torture myself in your absence) but never-the-less, that’s what is in my mind and heart. Oh, how I wish reality was different.

I hope that you are having a celebration of angelic proportions today, my beautiful sweet boy. I wish we could celebrate it here with you. Instead, I will carry you with me, remembering and holding on to every single second that I can. Every second that I held on to your fragile little body. Every second that I watched you sleep. All the minutes that I watched the monitors in NICU and Special Care. All the hours of exhaustion that I would do all over again for a chance to listen to your sweet little sounds while you rested.

Happy Birthday, Beautiful Boy. We love you.

Love, Mommy