I Will Always Remember

Happy Birthday to my sweet boys (one day late here, because yesterday was a super busy day). I can't believe it's been four years since that dreadful c-section. I wrote the follow several weeks ago, but just haven't posted it yet. I actually submitted it to Still Standing but never heard from them so I am assuming they did not choose it for posting, which I am fine with. I suppose I should just let it all out here instead of there.

I remember the sound of my sobs after they told me my son’s heart had stopped beating. It felt like an out of body experience, almost as though I was floating away from reality because the pain was so deep. 

I remember going to the funeral home to sign paperwork and fighting the urge to run and find his body. Later I realized that since we chose cremation he wasn’t there, but at the time it took all I had to leave him for what I thought was the second time. 

I remember praying with my husband for God to heal our son. We slept in the NICU night after night and held each other as we cried and prayed for a miracle. 

I remember it all. 

But even more than that, I remember seeing his face for the very first time. His frail little body was hooked up to a ventilator and he looked exactly like his healthy twin brother, and I fell in love instantly. I reached through the incubator and touched his leg and he stole a piece of my heart he always has with him. 

I remember when he first opened his eyes what it felt like to know that he knew what his momma looked like. Later that day I got to change his diaper for the first, and only time. He peed on me. Twice. 

I remember when he had a silent baby fit only NICU mommas can understand. I held his hands and sang to him and he opened his big blue eyes and looked at me memorized and stopped fussing. He knew his momma, and it that moment our bond was unbreakable. 

I remember when they placed him in my arms for the first time. It was just hours before he died, and in a strange way life was as it should have been for a few moments. My son was in my arms, exactly where he should have been every day the previous five weeks. 

Every day, every moment, I carry the moments with me. I remember the perfectness that was my son, and the horridness that encases his death. I am his momma, and he is my son. 

And until I see him again and form new memories in Heaven, I will remember.

A Million Thoughts

July is always a hard month for me. Normally I just get so stressed and crazy that I completely break down before I realize it.

This year, I am eating my way through the month. When I have so many things going through my mind I snack. And snack. And snack. I am trying so hard to maintain the weight I've lost, and keep losing weight. Right now it just feels hopeless. And just now I am sitting on my couch trying to figure it out, and then it hit me.

It's July. The boys birthday is coming up. And instead of planning a birthday party for twins, its a party for one. And so all I want to do is eat an entire bag of chips. But tonight I won't.

We typically plan for Will's party in August so it gives us a little reprieve from their birthday month, but now I am in planning mode and going over and over what it should be. Who we should invite, and if anyone will come. My guess is it will be a small party, with just a few friends we have. We don't have any family that live within 3 states of us, so that always sucks. My parents do always come in for Will's party and that's awesome to have them. But very few other people. We've made a lot of friends through the years, which is really nice, but it will still be a small party I think.

And I have no idea where to have it. I really want it at the zoo, but Will keeps saying he wants it at a local kids indoor play gym/arcade place. All I can really think about it where would MJ want it at, but I'll never know.

Today I was driving and wondered if anyone ever thinks of my as a mother of three. Anyone who we hang out knows MJ. His pictures are up in our house, and we talk about him freely. But I wonder, when I am thought of (if I'm ever thought of) if people think Megan: mother of three. Or if they just think Megan: mother of two. It really bothers me that I don't that answer.

I have made one good friend within the last six months and she is amazing. Almost every time I see her, she makes a point to say something about MJ. She even flew all the way to Chicago to go to our annual walk for MJ's Memories. She called me to ask if she could put MJ on her finger nails when she got them manicured. I wish more people were like her, and weren't scared of talking about him or asking me about him. I wish society was more accepting like her. She's a great friend, and I am really lucky to have her.

Fifteen days and my boys will be four. Fifteen days and we'll celebrate with only one of them.

I miss you even more every day MJ.