Hello, my love,
It’s your birthday week! I’m not sure when you would have arrived, but some people celebrate their birthdays all week long here so you fit right in. My celebration of you is this letter and thinking about you each day. By His grace, I have spring break this week so I can spend as much time with you as I need. I’ve spent weeks writing this post. Revising, adding, moving things around, and wondering if I should share this blog or leave it as a draft, especially since I just shared on social media that we’re expecting your younger brother. How can I make this make sense? How do I express the joy that I’m experiencing without downplaying the grief that still surprises me at random moments of the evening?
I miss you and what could have been. I wish I had a clearer image of your little body instead of some fuzzy idea conjured up by my longing to see you. The great conflict is that without your absence your little brother wouldn’t be growing. I’m so thankful for this brother of yours and I can’t wait to meet him, but I also miss you. You would have been such an amazing sibling. It’s complicated, isn’t it? For every exciting milestone your brother reaches I’ll be thinking about you cheering him on, and wondering when you would have reached your milestones. Whether he’s an oldest child or an only child, you’ll be a presence that lingers on the edges of my mind and my heart. I think about the close relationship I have with Johnny– how we played together (and fought with each other)– and I wish you could have that. I doubt the ‘what-ifs’ will disappear altogether.
Your brother is growing and moving around more. We were able to see him sucking on his thumb and kicking around during the 20-week ultrasound. It was amazing. Thank you for taking care of him so far. Heaven has been depicted and imagined in so many ways that I find myself leaning into my own imagination of how your interactions with God are. I imagine you at His side, a glowing form, whispering and giggling over every development that your brother makes. I like to think that your two souls are already fond of each other, sharing the mysterious bond of existing in the unseen. It’s comforting to know that you’re his guardian angel. Our little cheerful Angel.
Happy birthday, my baby. If people ask if your brother is our first, we might say “yes”, but both of you have changed our lives.
You changed our lives, my love.
I love you.
Mama
P.S. Just before posting this I watched the ending scene of Mary Poppins where everyone is happily flying a kite together. Kites remind me of you because three days before I miscarried I lay on the beach watching two little kites fly high in the air, praying that everything was okay. I’m thankful for the opportunity to be reminded of you by seemingly insignificant things.
Drops of Jules 