1 million, 51 thousand, 200 minutes

17,520 hours

730 days

104 weeks

24 months

2 years.....


since my beautiful baby boy was in my arms, receiving every ounce of love I had left in my recently crushed soul.

Sometimes it feels like it was only yesterday and I can still smell his precious baby skin. Other days it feels like an eternity has passed and that my memories of him are slowly fading. No matter how you look at the amount of time that has passed, whether it be in seconds or years,  since April 25, 2012, it is obvious that time is indeed moving...moving away from those first and last moments with my Wyatt? or moving closer to our long-awaited and anticipated reunion?

I wonder how many readers are thinking at this very moment, " She is all over the place with this post!"? Well, friends, welcome to my life. Let me tell you that most days are spent (and I mean SPENT) chasing after and breathing in my two, beautifully wonderful daughters while my heartache takes the back seat. Because let's face it...that dark- haired rambunctious little boy will never be running after his sisters with a slimy toad or pulling off the heads of their barbies.  With that said, there are still days when the common comment of "now all you need is a boy!" from a harmless stranger makes me want to retreat from the happenings of life in an instant. Don't fret, folks, we all know by now that it's not in my nature to let others or life's cheap shots hold me down...

We gathered at the cemetery to REMEMBER the all too short life of a very loved little boy on April 25th. It was not a large, elaborately planned event, however I was completely blown away by the amount of people who attended. You all keep amazing me with your love for us and our Wyatt ;you will NEVER know how much it truly touches a tender spot in my heart to witness your selfless support over and over again.

This year for Wyatt's birthday, we chose to send floating lanterns into the sky...with the hopes that others would observe the action and possibly remember that our child was real, he was wanted, and he IS loved. It worked. People from all over town reported on seeing the lanterns. And you know what is one (let's admit there are thousands) neat thing about being from a small town is? EVERYONE knows EVERYONE. After a few calls, facebook posts, and simple revelations, it was known to those that the lanterns were for our boy. How special.

It's hard to sing "Happy" birthday when there's nothing really happy about having to live life without one of your children, but when it's all you CAN do, you do it....and we will continue to remember him every minute, every day, every week, every month, and every year.

We hope you enjoyed your light show, baby.

New Year, New Post, Same Ramblings

Forgive me, Friends, for it has been 6 months since I have blogged. That is just unacceptable.
But, truthfully, it isn't because I think of my Wyatt any less... or miss him less...or cry any less. The cold truth is that there is nothing new to say, nothing extravagant to report.  And that is hard.

We still miss him.

We still wish this hadn't happened to OUR baby boy; to our family.

We still wish he were here, with us.
The what ifs kill me sometimes. What if he were here? What would his personality be like at 20 months old? Would he be into Mickey Mouse or Cars? Would he sit still long enough for me to torture him with pictures like I do his sisters? How would he handle being the only boy sandwiched between 2 girls? oh the questions that will always linger... and will always remain unanswered.


HOW is this fair?

HA!

My grief for Wyatt is manageable now; I sometimes read back on my first blog posts and think, "Wow, I was broken...I was hurting...and I still can't believe this happened to ME!" The sneaky feeling of anxiety still creeps up on me sometimes, like at family holiday gatherings, or new places around new people who don't know me or our story. I'm always afraid that I'll be somehow forced to choose between including or not including our 2nd child whether it be in traditions or conversations. It's not that easy, folks. Time doesn't HEAL anything. It may dim the intensity, but it sure as hell doesn't have a magic wand to wish away my sorrows.

My fear now is that my other children will pick up on their anxious mother's habits. I want them to remember a childhood full of laughter, fun, traditions, lessons learned, loads of hugs, kisses, and snuggles, and never ending love...NOT a mother who has to take deep breaths to calm her nerves or could very well drown in her own tears when she is told by that complete stranger that all she needs now is a boy. You're right, dear sir, I do need my boy.

But don't fret, yet, my dear readers, for our daughters will know all about their brother. They are having that childhood that I have dreamed up for them. And they have a momma and daddy who love each other and them with all of our beings. 

We are human. We have deep emotions. We got this.

Life is rough on a mom without her sweet boy. That's all.

It always will be.