What We Missed

Dear Jasper & Bodhi,

I've been thinking of you more and more as we approach your birthday.. and the arrival of your baby brother.

I find myself waking, in tears, from bad dreams where I relive that day with you, or imagine losing your little brother in the same way. I wish I could express the depth of how much I still miss you.

In a few days, we'll be celebrating your brother with family and friends. It so pains me that I never got to celebrate you that way -- not in the way I so desperately wanted to. I didn't get to hear advice on how to raise two babies at once. I didn't get to make your nursery how I had envisioned it. I didn't get to see your loved ones pass you around with smiles on their faces. I didn't get to bring you home...

Still, as I daydream about those missed moments, I choke back the tears.

And I'm slowly coming to terms with the guilt. The guilt for failing you -- for my body not doing what it's built to do -- for not keeping you safe. I still struggle with not having a reason for any of it. At the same time, it helps the blame to fade away.. slow as it may be.

But I'm not the only one with guilt. Your father had a completely different take on it; blaming himself over the timing. Wondering to himself if he had proposed sooner, if we would have been married sooner, and conceived sooner.. would our first born(s) have lived?

We'll never know.

Sure, it's possible we would have had an uncomplicated pregnancy. But it's also possible we wouldn't have even had the chance to hold them for the moments we had with you. And either way, they wouldn't have been you. Meeting you both was the most beautifully painful moment of my life.. and I wouldn't give it up for anything short of more time with you.

We also wouldn't be expecting your brother now.

And what I know in my heart is that when I celebrate him, I celebrate you. You are not my past, or just a memory. All three of you are equally my children. Equally loved. And equally celebrated -- even if it doesn't outwardly look the same.

I celebrate you when I speak of you. I celebrate you when I have quiet moments of remembrance. I celebrate you by forgiving myself, and helping your father do the same.

I celebrate you by loving your father every day.

- Your Mother