Oh my dear sweet Logan, how can I possibly explain how much I truly miss you? You would be seven years old today. Heading for the second grade. All of the things we are about to do for the first time with Eli should be old hat for us: sports, school shopping, meeting teachers. If you were here in our arms we would have traveled this road before. But instead we're facing it all for the first time and wondering what it would have looked like if we'd gotten to do it all with you.
Every year the days between June 16 - July 14 are so hard on me. The rest of the year I can stay busy for the most part with your brother and sister and even though I think of you daily, it doesn't hit me the same way. But every year during these 4 weeks I lose my breath when I think of you. I feel like I could cry at a moments notice and everything seems to relate to you in some way. Just lately I've realized how unprepared I was when you were born. I wasn't a very good mom during those 17 days. I mean, sure, I did all the things I was supposed to do. I pumped and visited the NICU often. I thought about you non-stop. But I didn't know how to be a good mom then. I didn't know how to sit beside your bed and just be there. Sometimes when we came to visit I felt like I was just checking in on you. I didn't know what to do except stare at you. Some of that is because I was being watched (or at least felt like I was). We never had alone time you and me. There were nurses, family members, friends... if we could have just been alone maybe I would have known what to say to you or felt comfortable singing to you or telling you a story. I wish I had been brave enough to do those things anyway. But I know that I am a better mom to Eli and Emily than I ever could have been without you. I hug them and kiss them and tell them I love them more often because I don't get to do those things with you. I hope that taking that lesson makes me a better mom to you too.
Each and every year I wonder what kind of presents you would want for your birthday, what kind of party you would want to have. Would we be doing an Extreme Athletics party? A pool party? Or would you have chosen a family trip?
Or would you be so significantly delayed/handicapped that a small, family-only party would be our only choice?
That's part of my reality, knowing that if you had lived there would have been a significant chance of severe handicaps/delays. Life on this earth may have been extremely difficult and possibly even painful for you. And still a selfish part of me wishes you were here despite any hardships you may have faced. But a much larger part of me is so happy for you. Happy that you feel no pain, that you watch over us, that we don't have to worry about you because we know you're safe.
When I went to pick up your flowers yesterday the florist didn't have any ready. Apparently they lost my order or just didn't have it made in time, I really don't know. But it completely broke my heart to be forced to just pick something that they just had sitting around or else leave with nothing for you. I called early, I wanted you to have something special. I wanted to scream at them, there wasn't a single arrangement there I really liked. But what choice did I have? So I picked the green and white ones since my only other choices were girly or baby blue. They're not good enough but they'll have to do this year.
I love you so much sweet boy and I hope you are having an amazing 7th Birthday Party in Heaven!
-Mommy
