So How Did That First Birthday Go?

A year ago I was discharged from the hospital and my husband and I both felt the sadness of having to go home without our little guy. And it felt so weird.

I held him that last morning and told him that I was going home but I would come up and visit as much as I could. And that I would tell his brothers all about him. That they were so anxious to meet him.

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So Andrew's first birthday has come and gone. And the weekend wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It turned out to be okay. The dread of the approaching day was more difficult than the day itself. In fact, I enjoyed the quiet time on Saturday, treated myself to a special meal and woke up Sunday glad to be alive.

It's odd. You want people to remember your child. To express that they remember he was here. That he mattered by their quick comment about him. And at the same time, sometimes you hate when people do it. It's such a paradox. And it's so annoying. Because I can't predict when it will bug me and when it won't. And if someone doesn't mention him, then that can bug me or not bug me.

And Sunday was one of those days that I wanted people to remember that Andrew was born on the 18th of December. And then I didn't want to hear anything else about it.

One lovely woman at church told me that she had just learned that Mark and I were the couple that lost Andrew. She hadn't realized that we were the ones until someone pointed it out to her. So she expressed her condolences. She was very sweet and kind. But it went on too long. "It's his birthday today." I told her and she felt bad again. Then I began thinking, okay, I guess I don't want people to remember today for much longer than a comment. But you can't really tell people that.

And another dear friend gave me a hug and said that she remembered it was his birthday. Another precious friend told me the same. It felt good. But the second just kept going on trying to encourage me that he is in heaven. And we have that hope of seeing him again. That eternity is longer than this life. And I was polite and smiled and nodded my head a lot and prayed she would stop. I thought I was going to lose it. But composed myself again enough to hold another friend's daughter who is 4 months old. And I thought of Andrew while enjoying holding a baby.

That evening we went a neighbor's house for a Christmas party. I didn't feel like being around people by that time of the day. I wanted to isolate myself but I went just in case I got into a chatty mood and forgot about Andrew. I hugged a few friends. Said hello. Met a few new people, got reacquantied with a young couple who had their 1st about 9 months ago and then it happened. A couple came through the door with an infant carrier. Everything stopped for me and my heart gripped trying to prepare for the sight. And there he was - a boy who is 5 months old. Instantly I teared up and looked down at the floor.

"Would you mind if I went home?" I asked my husband.

"No. You not feelin' it?" he asked with concern.

As the sadness began to rise and pour out my eyes I just shook my head and looked into his eyes. I gathered myself and found one of the hostess' to relay my regrets and left. Once outside I breathed a sigh of relief over not having to be around anyone. The stillness around me. The quiet. And cried a bit as I walked home.

Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday dear Andrew.
Happy birthday to you.

Andrew at 5 minutes of age. We had one minute together before the nurse took him to NICU to take care of him. He was 5 1/2 pounds and 18 inches long and a good crier. He was beautiful and I was so proud of him for breathing on his own.