Missing: the way he moved and tumbled, the sound of his heartbeat, watching him on the ultrasound, his weight in my arms, his face and tiny gums.
Longing: to have him back in my arms, for birthdays and first words and first steps and wet kisses, to see him with his sisters and cousins and grandparents.
Wondering: whose personality traits he has—more like mommy? or more like daddy?, how his voice sounds, what our life would be like had he lived.
Wishing: he was here (and his sisters, too), that I took more pictures of him and with him, that I held his hands and feet.
I didn’t include love in that list, because although it will never go away, it doesn’t stay the same. My love for Calvin, for my babies, transforms as much as it is transforming. And that is a beautiful thing.
Happy 28 months with Jesus, baby boy. You and your sissies are always with me. Mommy and Daddy love you, Calvin, so, so much.
PS: I know this post is late, and I’m trying to be more self-forgiving. I cried last night because I felt like I was betraying Calvin because the reason I couldn’t post was from Clomid’s side effects. I’m trying to remember that Calvin knows I love him and that our babies aren’t bound by dates as signs of love (thank you for the reminder Louie).