Yesterday marked 10 months since Joshua was born and subsequently died. 10 months. That’s a hard number to swallow. I cannot believe it. In fact, I didn’t even realize that yesterday was the 26th. Shortly after I got to work, my mom text me.
I touches me that my mom remembers. And almost hurts that I didn’t. I felt badly for not knowing it was the 26th. In the beginning, I dreaded days. I dreaded the weekends and counted the weeks since Joshua was born. Now it feels like each day is the same. There is no fearing a Friday or Saturday to arrive (the day I went into the hospital and the day he was born). There is no looking at the calendar in anticipation that the 26th is arriving soon. It’s just a day like any other. Part of me is happy and quite relieved I can say that. The other part of me feels like I’m losing touch of my son when I don’t fiercely recognize these days.
Last week my cousin had a baby. There have been plenty of births after Joshua, but this one hit me. Not because I’m particularly close to my cousin, I don’t know what it was, but that night was hard on me. I cried. A lot. The ugly, out loud, snot running down my face, can’t breathe kind of cry. I couldn’t stop it. The crying started on the couch, just watching TV. Nothing triggered it. I just couldn’t help but think how unfair it was that Joshua died. Why me? Why him? Those questions I asked every day in the beginning. I went up stairs into his room and brought out his photos. This simultaneously made it better and worse. The crying got worse, but my heart felt a little better. I’ve looked at those photos a thousand times, but on that particular day looking at the photos made me feel like I was reliving the day. I felt like I was right back in the pain the days after his death. I wanted to text my husband to come home but didn’t want to bother him at his work function.
After I got all the deep down sobs out, I went to the bathroom to blow my nose and make sure my mascara wasn’t all over my face. I went back downstairs to get my mind off things. My husband came home shortly after. He immediately knew something was wrong and asked me about it. I just hugged him and said, “I miss Joshua. It’s just not fair.” He said, “I know, I miss him too. He was too perfect for earth and God needed him for something bigger. We have our little girl coming soon and Joshua will be watching over her. You should have called me if you were having a bad night, I would have come home.” It was comforting to know he missed Joshua too, but I didn’t like how he changed the subject to the new baby. “I know, but that doesn’t make me miss him any less, in fact, sometimes it makes me miss him more,” I responded.
Getting closer and closer to our little girl’s arrival makes me miss Joshua more. Her big kicks remind me of him. Dreaming of (or dreading) her birth makes me missing him more as well. I still have a hard time imagining what it’ll be like with a living baby at home. Some days are so great. Of course I miss him every day and try to tell him that I love him multiple times, but some days just feel normal now. Then there are other days like last week when I just can’t stop the tears. It’ll never be fair that Joshua died. It’ll never be okay. My pain won’t go away from not having him in my life. Although, I know that I wouldn’t be pregnant right know if it wasn’t for his death. I know this baby has a place in our lives that was meant to be, just like Joshua, and she wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for that tragic event 10 months ago.
10 months ago was the best and worst day of my life. I don’t know that many people would understand that and that’s okay. 10 months ago we had our son. He was the most perfect and beautiful baby I’ve ever seen (I may be a little biased!). I miss him. We had 6 hours with him. I wish we had the last 10 months. I miss touching his soft skin and that soft hair. I miss looking at his cute little lips, long eyelashes, and perfect nose. I miss him. I love him. I always will.