Sometimes, sometimes when you least expect it the pain of all the losses just hit you. You can be doing things to move on, doing things to heal and then it hits. It is like a tsunami wave of sorrow hitting you in the gut, taking the wind completely out of your sails. And when this happens, the only way I know how to take another breath is by letting my soul feel.
It feels like it has been awhile since Mama has written to you. And, I needed to write to you. My darling boy, oh how I miss you. You were my hope, my chance of becoming a mama. And when I lost you I lost hope. I lost my will to live. I’ve been through so much before, but losing you, son, was not something that I could do or handle on my own. It felt like a thousand knives stabbing my heart at once. The pain was too harrowing to bear.
I’m not saying the loss of all your brothers and sisters weren’t painful. There is a reason I have imprinted on myself the daffodil tattoo, so that I can be reminded of all of you. You, however, you were the one that made it. Made it out of the scary first trimester. You were healthy. You were strong. You were the one where I got to see and hear your heartbeat. You gave me the belief that I was not marred from what I did many, many years ago. But, I still lost you and I fell in complete darkness.
And then, a year ago things began to change. I found forgiveness. I found healing. I realized that though I loved you I could let you go. And so I did. Slowly, but surely, I let you go. I could speak your name without a gut shot. As the months had gone on you could feel the change at home. Mama and Daddy were healing together. Moving on from the loss of you. In jubilance we enthusiastically began to travel the road of fostering to adopt. Oh Jax, it has been a road. We’ve learned so much. There is a newness of joy knowing this is what we are meant to do.
Today, I spent the day fiddling in the nursery. We just bought the crib so I wanted to get it together. I put on some music, you know how Mama can’t do anything without music. I moved things around to make room for the huge box I was about to drop on the floor. And then I set to work.
First the back was assembled. Then the sides. Then the base. I was avidly enthusiastic about seeing the crib finally up. I attached the front of the crib, so proud of what I was accomplishing. I unpacked the mattress and lay it down and suddenly every emotion you feel when you lose a loved one hit. I could picture you in the crib looking at me like you do in my dreams with that lopsided smile telling me you are ok. My knees buckled, I fell to the ground, and wept.
Your daddy held me, rocked me to calm my aching heart. And without uttering a word to him about what was going on he said, “Jackson is so happy and proud of us for moving on.” Oh my sweet boy, how I want to make you proud. Sometimes I feel I could have done more, or done something different and you’d be with me today. But, I know God needed you more than I needed you. I know you dance with the angels. You sing with your Papa. You laugh with Gramps and Nana. You play with your brothers and sisters. You are happy. But, that doesn’t change how much I miss you. Especially through this adventure. I know you’d make the adventure even more special were you here.
I just wanted you to know, I miss you Jax. I miss you so much. And I love you, to the moon and back.