I often wondered if people thought this child was a "replacement" for our boy and if our hearts would miraculously be healed by this precious little being. Some have even stated it out loud, "I hope this has helped to heal your hurt." or " I'm so glad your family is getting the happy ever after it deserves."
Well, to put it in a nutshell (because currently that is all I have time to put it in for you all, seeing as to though I have a newborn to care for :) ), this new child has given me hope, she has stolen my heart, and she has already placed many a smile on my face since her arrival just 5 short weeks ago, but unfortunately there is no cure for a wounded heart. My intentions and hopes were never for the new baby to provide any kind of healing to my pain...that is not her job and I would never place those types of expectations on my precious children. I am thrilled to have this baby in my arms, but I will continue to long for the other.
It's a funny thing to feel grief and happiness all at once, but I have lived with this reality for over a year now, and I will continue to travel on in this life. I sometimes feel guilty when caring for Nora. Guilty because Wyatt, and all of us here on this earth that love him, were stripped of those moments with him. This momma never got to feed her baby boy a bottle or rock him to sleep. I know deep down that I shouldn't feel the guilt and I should know that Wyatt still loves his mommy, but my heart aches for those memories with my son.
A wounded heart can never be completely healed; I will always have scar tissue that remains...and that's okay. Yes, the scars sometimes hurt, and yes, I realize that some will think of this post as a jumble of confusing words because I should be completely and totally happy with my life...and I am. I am so incredibly happy with my sweet husband and two princesses, but there will ALWAYS be a missing piece to our puzzle. His name is Wyatt, and many a tear still falls as I think of what should be. Not only should I have an almost six year old pulling me in every direction, and a newborn crying (literally) for attention, but my heart knows that I SHOULD be chasing a newly turned one year old around as well. I should be so completely worn out and tired at the end of each day that it's all I can do to crawl into bed...
I still picture him in all that we do. I see a dark headed little guy running around with his cousins and getting into EVERYTHING imaginable. I see a sweet round face begging to be kissed. I see big blue eyes as they open and close very slowly as to fight off the sleep that is impeding after a long day of play. I see chubby little fingers as they tug on my pant leg in hopes to gain Mommy's attention away from the new baby. I see clumsy toddler legs as they try to climb the steps to big sissy's room.
I see my baby boy everywhere...and I miss him. OH, how I miss him.
