February 18th, 2013. 11:36pm. 6lbs 15oz. 21 inches long. He had his sister’s nose, Mommy’s dimpled chin and Daddy’s hands. He was more perfect than I could’ve ever imagined and I will always, always love him.
February 18th, 2014.
You wake up , a year has gone by, and you still remember. You still long to hold him in your arms. You still have dreams of him as a little boy….a blue-eyed, brown-headed, fearless little boy following his sister around the house. And you’re still okay. Somehow, 365 days of happened…you have felt every emotion as deeply as you can possibly feel them…365 days. It feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago all at the same time.
Losing James was easily the hardest and most fiery trial I have ever been through. There are still times I look back and wonder how I survived the deep depression that so quickly engulfed my life last spring, and I know that God gave us the community we’re in for exactly when we needed a strong community to grieve with. One that wouldn’t shy away from the very raw feelings and emotions we experienced. One that would pick us up and carry us through mourning out precious son. For that, we are ever grateful.
There are countless things I learned through my mourning process of James that I am confident I wouldn’t have learned otherwise. Here are a few of those things:
-I learned how real, steadfast, true and reliable God is and that he is truly the Rock we stand on when we literally, yes LITERALLY cannot stand up.
-I learned the value of life itself. Every breath and moment.
-I realized, so abruptly, how horrible this world has become and how Heave is really the home I long for and now am so motivated for.
-I learned how a little girl of not even 3 years can change my life to make it worth living for.
-I realized the sanctity of marrage and the benefits of leaning on each other when the “for worse” part of your vows comes true.
-I learned that there can be joy – great joy – if you let yourself feel and heal.
-I learned God never leaves us. Ever. And that He is often closest when we hurt the most.
-I learn to have faith in not knowing and to see it through because sometimes you just.don’t.know.why. And it’s usually because God is using your situation and preparing you for things you never even dreamed about…like being a support for other Mommas who didn’t get to keep their babies (shout out to my new friend Alex)…or doing a news story about James’ life and Molly Bears.
-I learned how very cathartic it is to write, so I will end this with a note to my baby. Blessings, all.
Dear James, I want you to know that you hold my heart. I give a lot of love out on this earth, but you’re the one that holds my heart. It was your sweet little infant life that changed mine. I couldn’t be happier knowing you will only ever feel happiness, and yet sometimes the pain of missing you is so great that I can’t breathe. I can feel you in our home and in our lives, and I always will make a point to. I love you so much baby boy, and I look forward to the day you run to me, arms open wide. Love, Momma