I'm staring at a picture of Ethan at my desk and I can't help but wonder what he would have been like. What his personality would be like. Would he be calm and kind like his daddy? Or a little out there and crazy like his mommy?
Why didn't he even get the chance to turn into his own little person?
Today is International Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness day and I just feel rage. I am so angry that Ethan died. I am so angry that countless other babies have died. When I posted my pic to Instagram, there were over 17,000 posts with the hashtag #waveoflight. SEVENTEEN THOUSAND.
So here is my picture of our candles being "lit" (they are LED). And you can sort of make out Ethan's hand and foot prints. And if you look really closely, you will see a crocheted football hat that has an ugly plastic box inside that houses the remains of my first born, my son. My gorgeous bum chinned, dark haired, soft skinned, handsome, sweet precious boy.
How do we live in a world where this happens so much. And why is relatively nothing being done about it? I don't want to donate my money to cancer research or the heart & stroke, I want to donate money to research into how babies die. Why do some have cord accidents and live? Why do some swallow meconium and die? How do we not know why Ethan died?
Fuck.
My intention for this year's Capture you Grief project is to spend more time with Ethan. As time goes on, he gets further and further away from me and it hurts my heart. I intend on spending some time every day with him - whatever that means. Whether it is talking to him, or about him, thinking about his handsome face, remembering all of his features and how he felt in my arms. Whatever it is each day. Hopefully I can turn it into an every day thing. Even if it's only 5 minutes out of the day.
Now this isn't to say I am not thinking about him because I do. Every single day. But I need to feel near to him. I don't ever want him to just be a memory. He is my son. My first born. My forever love.
I didn't wake up for the sunrise on day 1. I meant to but C was sick so we slept in. I remember missing it last year too. And the year before. I can't believe this is my third October / my third Thanksgiving without my son. Ugh.
Instead of a sunrise I posted a tree with its leaves changing. I figured sunrise is the start of a new day like the leaves changing is the start of a new season.
I hope this season sees me able to spend more time with my son. I have said it before, C is all encompassing. My life is her. But she is getting older and requires a bit less hands on attention.
I don't remember the sunrise on the day Ethan was born. I don't even remember if my hospital room had a window. I guess when you go to the hospital expecting to finally meet your baby but then he dies and you don't get to bring him home, it makes details a bit fuzzy.
I do know that now I appreciate sunrises (and sunsets) a lot more than I used to. I stop and look at the beauty of nature.
I also can't believe that my son died but the sun still rises. My world came crashing down but everything else kept on going, like a normal day.
I'm a bit all over the place today. These are just my random thoughts on the sunrise.
I first participated in Capture Your Grief the year that Ethan died (well, obviously).
Last year I planned on it, but was so busy with a 3 month old Chloe that I just didn't get around to it.
This year, with a 15 month Chloe, I think I will be able to participate again. I will try.
