Happy Birthday - Year Seven

 

March 25th, 2021.

Today Liam would have been turning S E V E N years old. Another anniversary of his BIRTHday. Typically each year, I go through the familiar path of wondering who he would have been or could have been. What do seven-year-olds spend their time doing? What would he be into? What would his favorite color, sport, or food be? Would he be wild, strong, and energetic like Asher? Would he be particular, independent, and funny like Audrey? Would he be crazy smart, headstrong, and determined like Quinn? This year, I notice that among these wonders, I find myself thinking about who he still is to me today vs. who he could have or would have been.

When I think of Liam, I still visualize him as my sweet, curious 2-month-old baby whose face was full of new expressions. It's odd though, because when I think of him, outside of my memories with him, he feels more like an old soul. It's almost like he's more of someone old and wise you respect and look up to, similar to a teacher, coach, conscience, or even angel on my shoulder type of form.

Every time I have a “helicopter mom” moment – I think of Liam and feel comforted and accepted for trying to prevent every potential accident (even though, yes I know, is impossible). When I lose my temper – I think of Liam and can calm down and remember why I need to reset, and find more patience. When I feel my frustrations begin to boil over – I think of Liam and remember why it's important to realign my perspectives and reset once more. When I simply see a hummingbird fluttering closely, I think of Liam and feel like it's his way of saying "hello". He reminds me to slow down. He reminds me that it's okay to have PTSD when certain triggering situations arise. He reminds me of all the dreams I've ever had. He reminds me of every obstacle I've overcome to get to where I am. He reminds me of how quickly your entire world can change. He reminds me not to take things for granted. He reminds me tomorrow is never guaranteed. He reminds me to be kind and compassionate in all the ways, all the time. He reminds me to be extra grateful for my health and prioritize its importance. He reminds me that I am not in control. His life led me to learn many life lessons quickly that I was either too ignorant to see before or fortunate not to have to experience firsthand. 

 

Liam is also prevalent in other scenarios that make me feel less inspired and instead bring up more grieving feelings. When I hear “Oh you have your hands full” I think of Liam and how he is not being physically represented in our family. Every time Im asked “how many kids do you have” I think of Liam and whether or not I go into his level of detail to answer such a relatively easy question to this innocent unsuspecting stranger. When outsiders see me and my family, they don’t see the two natural miscarriages, our genetic disorder, the second baby boy pregnancy loss we had in 2015, the two rounds of IVF, the four individual embryo transfers, or Liam James - our first born (should be seven years old) son watching over us from above. We seem to be a family of five while we will always be a unique family of six. 

 

I also wonder how I explain this to my living children as they ask more questions. Today his photos are still all around us, and they know his name. Quinn grasps that we label him as her big brother but hasn’t connected it yet. She knows we do unique crafts to celebrate him and that we go to the park to see his tree and the special park to bring him flowers. She knows that we often grab two of the same Hot Wheel cars and leave one with him and bring the other home for her. The twins call him the “baby – night night” because hes sleeping in so many of his photos. Asher even pronounces “rainbow” as “Leeeeeummmm” (such a coincidence as he used to pronounce rainbow clearly.)

 

There's not a clear summary or ending punch line. No moral of the story or words of wisdom. Just another phase of our family story. Another chapter of Liam James and who he is today to us and what he continues to teach us. He continues to bring us to new people in similar situations. He is still so embedded in our family, and I love how his memory is so alive in them and all the people he touched. 

 

Baby Boy. You are so so loved. So missed. So remembered. We wish you were here with us but are so thankful to have you above us. <3 Thank you.

 

Happy Birthday. 

All our love - 

 - Mama, Dada, Quinn, Audrey & Asher