To My Little Special

Little special, this is our first harvest without you. We are learning to find ways to celebrate you and talk with the boys about you. It hurts at times but the boys seem to like this and want this. It almost doens't phase them at all when we talk about you. Almost like they don't feel anything. I know that's not true but it's just how it looks to us.

Regardless, it seems that they need that. To talk about you. Remember you. Have things around that are yours. So we're doing it. The pictures are the hardest. But since the boys were so glad to see pictures of you, I guess we'll push ourselves to get a collage printed up and framed of pictures they chose and that we chose.

We sure do love you and miss you so much. It's kind of nice though to think of traditions we can start that can include you since we know you are still with us.

It's not as difficult as I thought it was. Maybe that's becuase at Alex's grief class, we had to say your name, who you were to us and that actual word, "died". They said Alex needed to hear us say the proper term and not sugar coat it and he needed to say it too. So we did even though it kind of was something I had to almost force out of my mouth.

It's been so hard. I honestly thought you'd wake up and we'd take you home in a few days and then the doctor ................................................

Andrew........................................ I don't know what to say..................................... I love you so much. And miss you so much. Sure you were unexpected surprise but boy were you such a delight. Such a joy to me. You added so much to my life in your short little life.

To you, I could do no wrong. I was mommy. Someone you looked at all big eyed and lovingly like I was the most wonderful person in all the world.......................................... because in your little eyes, at your little age, that is what a mommy is for a baby. And it was so wonderful.......................

I was your mommy.

I still am your mommy.

I am your mommy that misses you.

And I often wonder what that would have looked like as you got older.

Oh Andrew..................................................... oh Andrew .  .    .    .      .       .               .