I realize how lucky I am to have the videos we have of our Little Dude; so many do not have these. I watch them over and over and over and over and over. I watch them to the point of being completely bored by them, and then I watch them again. I try to pick up something new; any little tidbit into the Little Dude's personality or tastes or anything.
It seems utterly surreal that this child will become part of our family is a short-ish period of time.
I have a tough time with the word "son". Some already refer to him as our son, but I don't think so. He will be our son, but right now, he's not. He's a little boy who has absolutely no idea what is going to happen to him. He doesn't know who we are. It's amazing to see this little child, toddling around in an orphanage, knowing the process that is already in place to bring him home, and to know he has NOT ONE CLUE what that's about.
The other reason I have a tough time with the word "son" is because I already have two of them. They are invisible sons, because they are gone. They are with Jesus in Heaven. They died in 2008.
My first foray into motherhood occurred on March 14, 2008. It was the day I delivered our twin boys, Jacob Anthony and Zachary Ethan. That was the day I became a mother for the first time, but our boys were born nineteen weeks too early. Shortly after birth, they passed away.
I was a mother - able to hold her children - for about two hours. I was a mother of multiples for that tiny shard of time, and then I had to plan a funeral for my sons. I became a mother of twins who perished.
Tomorrow is Jacob and Zachary's birthday. It is a day to remember, not celebrate. I will never have a birthday party for them, never see them open the dozens of gifts they might receive. I can't plan a twin birthday party or marvel at how Jacob loves Elmo but Zachary loves Diego. I never got that chance.
That's part of why I am no stranger to advocacy. When I became an invisible mother of sons, I had to learn to step out of my comfort zone and talk about my sons. You would be amazed how few people really want to talk about children who have died. They become uncomfortable and uneasy. They don't like to say their names, or mention that I have other children. It's a bit easier now that Chelsea is here, because everyone talks about her. Tomorrow, when I post their picture and talk about them, some will get uneasy. Especially in the way my children died...sometimes, it can be easier for people who have lost children who lived longer to talk about them. It is considered more socially acceptable sometimes. My babies never opened their eyes, but I still held them. My babies never uttered a sound, but I knew their faces.
My baby boys will have a little brother someday. They already have a little sister, who knows to point to their picture and say "brothers". It is our job to teach her about her siblings in heaven, and we will do that. Tomorrow we will visit their tree and leave flowers.
When it is the Little Dude's turn, he can learn as well. He will learn about Jacob and Zachary, the babies that are his brothers and went to heaven before he was ever born.
Tomorrow, March 14, is their day. That is when I stop everything and remember them. Chelsea, our Little Dude...they all can wait for 24 hours while we remember their brothers. It is Jacob and Zachary's day. We don't exactly 'celebrate' it, but we remember them and focus on them.
I cannot wait to introduce the Little Dude to his brothers someday. I just hope it is someday soon. This time next year? I hope so.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Kind comments are welcomed. Poorly researched, ill-informed, horrifically biased comments are exploded. :)