Year Four

It's been four years since the day that forever changed my life. Four. We would have a FOUR year old. If only i could count the moments that i spend envision going what you could have been like. The memories we could have had. The people we all would have been. Let’s reflect for a moment where you might have been. I’d like to believe that you would have been an energetic healthy funny boy running around, bringing me bugs and flowers, loving Legos and books, showing interest in a sport or hobby, and just so so much more. In reality, if our son was still here we wouldn’t know what type of life he’d be leading at all. He would have been living with IIAC, and who knows what types of restrictions or complications that could have consisted of. Would we be traveling across the country to experiment with treatment? Would we have survived that? Would he would have wanted to spend his early life that way? Could we have had additional time with him if he had the chance to be diagnosed? So many what ifs. I think of them all, so often. 

What I do know, and reassure my self of often is that where he is now, he’s perfect, pain free, and happy. I just know it in my heart. I wish he could have been that way here with us as his parents, but that scenario was not meant to be. We miss him. I miss him. I would give anything to have him here happy and healthy with us. To know who he is, get his sense of humor, watch him learn things, experience things, go through all his firsts, just so so so many things. I could dwell on it forever. 

Accepting all of this separately from the other challenges in our life will be a forever process. I can’t believe it has already been 4 years. I can’t even say i remember much of the first two following his passing. The most recent two years were memorable because we were blessed with a thriving pregnancy and gave birth to a beautiful little rainbow baby girl. This also opened up a whole new chapter of emotion as we attempted to care for her outside of the fear that hung over us from losing Liam. I will share a few things I’ve realized now that we are at this place in our lives raising a healthy rainbow IVF baby after losing Liam after 2 months and experiencing additional pregnancy losses and failed IVF attempts. 

Nothing will ever replace Liam James. No matter how our family grows, he will always be missing from it. That will always hurt, always be in the back of our minds and we will always wonder what his place would have been with us if he was here. He will always be so incredibly missed. We will forever wonder who he could have been. His gravesite is still my least favorite place to reflect on him. I love how close I feel to him at Angel Park, or mostly at home. The same home we brought him to and got to make so many wonderful memories in. I love his little signs that I get to witness myself and also the signs that he shows so many others. I wish that I could see Quinn get to know him and watch them interact and grow up together. Losing him will never be fair or just. There will never be anyone to hate or blame. Accepting that was one of the hardest parts. I would prefer to use my effort and time focusing on the happy that he brought to our lives, remembering all the things he taught me and all the emotions he gave me. I’ll remember his sleepy smiles, his baby noises, cries, unamused faces and interested stares. I’ll remember watching Justin with him. I’ll remember his face recognizing ours. I’m thankful to have so much to remember. He will be my little two month old baby in my eyes, forever. 

Because of what we experienced with Liam, I am the an overprotective, stressed, dramatic, worried, cautious, overbearing, panicky helicopter mom. With Q, I count ounces, wipe down playground equipment, have her Pediatrician's personal cell number, hold her for the full duration of her naps, sleep with her in the same room as me, overreact when she changes while constantly thinking something is always wrong. We have had moments that should have been happy that I was so consumed by fear that were not enjoyed fully as they should have been. Sometimes one scare or trigger will send back such a powerful flood of memories and emotion it’s almost like you go into shock while trying to process it all. In that moment you are hit with the instant reality of how quickly a life can be taken. Not the fear of the possibility, but the fear of it actually happening, again. I strive to find that balance of normalcy. I believe we are doing the best we can. Because of this fear, I do believe we are able to love more deeply and purely. 

Children are an absolute blessing. I never thought I’d have a hard time having children. I’ve seen it come so easily or unexpected to so many people. I naively knew i would easily have them too. Despite everything - every single up and down, heartbreak, unexpected turn and miracle... All children are such absolute blessings. I thank the Lord repeatedly for giving me the gift to experience motherhood at all. I’m thankful for the time I had with Liam. I’m grateful to have Quinn and to get to spend each day caring for her and watching her grow. I’m so glad to be their Mama. I know we appreciate every moment so deeply now. The moments we had with Liam and the ones we have with Quinn. I know she is so unbelievably loved by so many. She’s watched over by her brother. Liam brought so much good into this world the day he was born. He changed all of us, for the better, forever. 

I know I haven’t written in awhile. It’s been so hard to find genuine time to put thoughts and emotions into words. I try to always make time to reflect around Liam’s birthday. It’s such a landmark of the course our lives took. It’s always more obvious to compare and think of what a different version of himself he could have been as he aged another full year. 

Happy 4th Birthday in heaven baby boy. Thanks for everything you’ve given me, taught me and left me with. Please always stay near us and watch extra over your little sister. You have such an impact on so many. You’re the reason for so much good in this world. You are so incredibly loved and missed baby boy. Thank you. Happy Birthday.