Why Andrew Was/Is So Special to Me

There are still questions. Maybe there always will be. There is still pain amongst the sorrow and the moving on in life we are managing to do. But I wonder if anyone understands this. I have not really shared this before.

Andrew was very special to me. We shared a bond unlike any other I have not known with my other boys. Not because I love them less or them not being as special. I think it's probably because we had to fight for him in the beginning. He was the underdog. This little tiny doll-like person that we didn't know whether he would live or die those first few weeks. I am always one who is drawn to the underdog. Movies about them overcoming just get me. And oddly, I was kind of an underdog growing up. An underdog that fought for the other underdogs.

My friends were usually those who were not wanted by anyone else. I just couldn't help but feel bad that they were alone so I would reach out to them. We were a group that stuck together for the most part. We stood by each other and dreamed that we would overcome and do more than our classmates thought we would due to our "station" or "status". We weren't necessarily at the bottom of the totem pole but we weren't too high up on the popularity chart either.

Well, anyway, so Andrew fit well into this "group" that always get my heart. The way I'm wired by God.

And due to his time in NICU, we got to have some time alone just he and I for a few weeks. Time to get to know each other without any distractions. Time I never really got with the others. We would talk. I'd sing to him. I'd tell him about his brothers and daddy and about life and he'd snuggle close and I just fell in love with him.

And the fact that he wanted to breastfeed, something his brothers never really wanted, just made that bond more intimate to us and special. Something unique that I shared with him alone and meant so much to me. And I think for that, he really gripped onto mommy. Even when he came home, it was clear that he was mommy's boy. Despite my working, I was his mommy and very special to him as he was to me. Again, not that I love my other sons any less. It's just something that we seemed to share.

So losing one who I was so close to, one who looked at me as though I was the most wonderful person alive, was hard. I have screwed up and not been as patient with my other sons as I would like. Lost my temper. Hurt their feelings unintentionally. Not taken the time always. Missed it on other occasions. I love my sons. But I have not done this mothering thing in a way that I would prefer. With Andrew, I knew I could start anew and really made an extra effort. Because of how he looked at me and related to me, I wanted to try to do it better. And in some ways had really done that. I gave myself to him in a way that I wish I had been able to with the others. But sadly, and regrettably, past baggage and emotional hurts kept me more guarded with them. More distant. I just wasn't able to give myself as I think a mother should.

So here I was trying to turn over a new leaf so that Andrew wouldn't have to live through some of the mistakes I had made with the others. And I felt like I might be accomplishing that finally. And then, he's gone. Ripped from me.

In my thinking, someone finally seemed to see me as being very valuable and loving. Someone that was special and giving. Didn't know how I have screwed up multiple times before in so many ways in life. To Andrew, I was mommy. I was love. I was there. I was his. I was special and very significant. Someone he looked forward to seeing. He thought I was really something. And it felt so nice for a change to have that in someone. It touched me deeply and irrevocably. And meant so much to me.

And then he was taken from me.

I know it's not entirely true in my head that he is the only one that thought this of me. But when so many have conveyed otherwise for so long, it takes that much longer to undo the damage. And it seemed like Andrew was a part of that. I meant something to someone. And even though on a few occasions I have been told that I am special or significant to someone, I was finally special to a child of mine. He looked forward to seeing me and saw no wrong in me. And that reaction has been even more rare in my lifetime. At least from my perspective. Except that he possibly wanted me to hold him more. And I wish I had held him more now that I know that that time was so limited.

So, anyway, that is part of why it hurts so much that my little special is gone. The other part is just that he is my son. And that pretty much says it all.

I need to go wipe my nose now and wipe my eyes.