2/23/2015 - Eight months in heaven
I'm writing this late again, next week you would be nine months old here on earth. These letters to you are emotionally draining for me, but so important and healing. It is hard to find time to sit and write when Judah is keeping me busy. He doesn't like to see me upset so I try not to write letters to you when he is watching. It's just one of many things that make me wish you were here with us, so that all of our lives could be intertwined more effortlessly.
Month eight was a busy one, a cold one, and a sick one. Judah had a week-long stomach bug, and then we all got bad colds that took weeks to go away. I started on a bit of a health quest because I was sick of being sick with all the winter germs and revamped our eating, making our own sourdough bread, milk kefir, cultured vegetables and cooking healthy food each day. This takes up a lot of time and energy but it has really helped. Knowing that I am feeding myself and my family good nourishing food has been uplifting for me. Judah also turned three, and we had his birthday party last month. It was lots of fun, but as always I couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like to have you there. I remember last year on Judah's second birthday thinking "Next year Judah will have a 7.5 month old little brother crawling around on his birthday!".
My dreams of you are all I have - I will never get to see you at 8 months old, a year old, 8 years old, 18 years old... And every month I have to let go of that a little more. I can sort of imagine what you would be doing, having watched Judah grow up. At 8 months old he was a speedy crawler, he could stand alone, and he was walking everywhere with his little push walker. Nothing was safe! Sometimes I look around and imagine how different life would be if you were here - we'd have the fence up around the TV. We'd have gates on all the doorways. The alphabet fridge magnets would be pushed up higher out of your reach. I'd be wrestling with safety locks on the kitchen cupboards. The pile of clean laundry would be your playground. There are a hundred little things that I think of every day, and then have to let go.
It snowed several times and it was cold cold cold. The cold makes me sad anyways, and being stuck indoors doesn't help. Ever since we buried your ashes on your one month birthday, it's hard for me when it rains or snows. My momma heart irrationally wants to run to your grave with umbrellas and blankets. I don't... because I know with absolute certainty that you are not really there. But your grave is one of few tangible links I have with you... it's your precious little earthly body... and I am your mother and there are so few things I can do to mother you on this earth. So it's hard for me. This probably seems strange and morbid to people who have not buried a child or a loved one... it's one of those things that I hope no one ever has to understand.
We found out baby #3 is a little girl in the middle of month 8. I knew from the very beginning with you and with Judah that you were boys. This time I just couldn't tell, though I kept thinking "well maybe this one is a girl" and then instantly saying to myself "no that's impossible, we're a boy family!" - I guess that should have been my clue that it was a little sister! It is such a joy to think about having a little girl. But my heart hurts a little, too. Judah won't have his little brother buddy like I had imagined the two of you. We won't get to use all the sweet little boy clothes (this time). Our lives will be filled with new little girl things, which is so happy... but I miss you, my little boy. No one will ever replace you.
Sweet Theodore... we just miss you. This letter seems a little disjointed... I just wanted to write down what I felt during month eight. It's not pretty or flowing but it's real. We miss you. It always hurts. We wish you were here.
Love, Momma, Papa, Judah, and baby sister