It’s hard to believe it’s been four years since we held James and Jake in our arms. Mostly we are okay, I often think about how I failed them as a Mom the moment they died. How oblivious I was to their suffering and ultimately their death. What was I thinking or doing at that moment? The thought that I wasn’t able to help them transition to their death haunts me.
My job as their Mom was so short, how could I have failed them so greatly in such a short period of time?
We have such a blessed life right now. So chaotic with normal everyday struggles but we have so many beautiful things. Beautiful children who grace us with their love and laughter (and tears and tantrums) each a day. We don’t dwell on what is lost … we just live.
But sometimes, in the dark of the night as I’m drifting to sleep, I wish so hard that I had just checked on those sweet boys in their beds. I envision blue quilts and soft snoring, a gentle nightlight cascading a little bit of light on their perfect faces. I breathe in knowing that this will never be part of our life.
And sometimes, in the morning, as the sun is beginning to rise, I’ll be nursing Clara back to sleep and I’ll just wish that I had experienced this with those boys.
Lately, our life has been so busy that I haven’t even had time to be sad. My mind won’t even go there. But yesterday, after a morning of errands with the kids, dishes, laundry, diapers, naps and feedings, I had to get in the car by myself to go to a store about 25 miles away. I wasn’t one mile from my home when my mind slipped into the reality that it’s been four years.
It hit me so hard.
I just really miss them.
I just wish they were here.