One Year

One year. 365 Days.

It feels like forever, yet no time at all.

Today, we're going to celebrate you both -- your far too short lives.

In just a few hours, we'll be headed to Indy. To the hospital where you were born. To the only place you ever lived. I have no idea how I'll feel walking in there again. Overwhelming grief? Peace? Grounded again in the place where I met you? My guess is it will be a blend of all of them.

The same as it was the day you were born.

Your father and I relive that day frequently.

Just this morning, I awoke to your father wrapping his arm around me. As I came out of my grogginess, I asked if he was okay.

"Just thinking about them... I just wanted to be close to you."

I rolled over into his arms, tucking my head beneath his chin. We talked about that day, tears falling down both our faces, as we remarked on how strong and beautiful you were -- and how we were so grateful that we got to meet you.

I said to him, "They were pretty amazing."

Your father gently moved his fingers through my hair, and whispered, "They got that from you."

You see, he likes to give me credit for your strength.. for your will to live. But the truth is, you were the best of both of us. The best thing we ever did. And I'm only so strong when your father is standing next to me. He's the one who walked me through the grief. The man who got into the hospital bed with me and stayed through the night. The man who would sit outside the shower when we got home.. just in case I broke down and needed him.

I like to think you were the best of us.. as a team.

And we're both so proud of you. Proud to call you ours. Proud of your strength -- to beat the odds -- and live long enough for us to be able to hold you both in our arms at the same time. Feeling you breathe, and wiggle your little arms and legs, as you lay upon my chest side by side ... Oh, I'll never forget it.

When we visit the hospital, we'll be donating some children's books to the maternity ward. It brings me a bit of peace to know that other parents will be bonding with their children -- because of you. Your spirit and your beauty will live on each night a child chooses one of the books we've donated in your memory.

The hospital also wants to interview us about you and that day. I'm nervous, but happy to do it.

People keep telling me how inspirational and strong I am for sharing your story. But really, I'm just like any other mother who loves to talk about her children. I don't get to talk about your spelling bees or your t-ball games. But I'll never stop talking about the love I felt in those hours with you.

I'm not inspiring. The magic in the story is yours -- it belongs to you.

So thank you. Thank you for bringing your father and I even closer together. Thank you for meeting us. Thank you for touching the world.

We celebrate you today. Happy Birthday, Jasper & Bodhi <3

- Your mother