Thursday, June 24, 2010

Faith, A Blessing

A picture is worth a thousand words. We were blessed to have James Adam Hill shoot the pictures for our daughter's one-year. Blessed? Yes, they're just pictures, but he's not just any photographer. He's the Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep photographer that came to the hospital two years ago to take pictures of Dylan. James has now photographed both of our children. So, you see, it's kind of significant to me to be blessed to have this picture (in every detail of it, down to the "little sister" tee):

Friday, June 11, 2010

Happy 2nd Birthday Dylan!

This morning, I went to work. That's not all that unusual, but I haven't been to work on June 11th in 2 years now. That's because two years ago on this date, Dylan was born. And one year ago on this date, I was out on maternity leave with Faith.

So, there I was, my first June 11th in 2 years. All in all, I survived. I managed my heavy heart, as I oftentimes do, and got all my work done. One of my co-workers stopped by my office and just wanted to hug me. Another called my extension to tell me that she was just thinking about me. One of my best friends sent flowers to my office. I'm blessed. I was blanketed by love and support from calls, e-mails, texts, FB messages, comments on this blog, etc. I have nothing but gratitude for it all.

And I know that I haven't expressed all the gratitude that I've held in my heart for so long. Many people have done so much and have helped in their own special ways:

Thank you Crystal for the Wednesday's Child frame,
the flowers you sent today,
and all of your thoughtfulness always:
Thank you Liz for your generosity and always making
a donation to Children's Healthcare of Atlanta in Dylan's name:Thank you Katy for the sweet note
and the beautiful plaque (that I cherish so very much):
Thank you Jen for your kind words:
"We'll never forget that special little guy
and the empty space he left in our family."

I have so many people to thank for so many different things, that I could spend hours and hours listing them out. We are so very blessed to have this kind of support today and always. I am forever humbled by you all. Anyway, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY SWEET ANGEL SON! WE LOVE YOU SO VERY MUCH AND MISS YOU ALWAYS! HOPE YOU'RE PARTYING IT UP IN HEAVEN! :)

Here's another video for your viewing pleasure:

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Two Days til Two Years

Dylan's 2nd Birthday would've (yes, I could say is, but it feels admittedly odd to me to still "celebrate" it as if he's right here with us) been this coming Friday. In alot of ways, I still feel just like I did in this post, that it's looming over me with anxiety and despair.

I am slowly making my way through Elizabeth McCracken's book "An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination", and there are so many great quotes from there that have stopped me in my tracks:

"You move on from it, but the death will never disappear from view. Your friends may say, Time heals all wounds. No, it doesn't, but eventually you'll feel better. You'll be yourself again. Your child will still be dead."

"I'm not ready for my first child to fade into history."

"grief lasts longer than sympathy, which is one of the tragedies of the grieving"

I get it. I get it all. We're on the cusp of 2 years now, and [many] people will want me to stop mentioning him. I'm going back and forth on whether or not I'll update my Facebook status to wish my [dead] son a Happy Birthday, just like all of the other mothers do on their kids' birthdays. Only mine will end with some sort of sad, sad tag like "and I miss you so much" or "I hope you're partying it up in Heaven". Do they do that? Have parties in Heaven?

I'm not sure that people will be sympathetic anymore. And is that what I really want/need? For people to still be sympathetic? Because whether or not people [still or have ever] acknowledge my reality, it happened. I was pregnant with Dylan. He was born. He died. And for that, I will be forever in grief. You don't just wake up one day and say, "Okay, it's been x-amount of time now, I'm good!" I don't think that will ever happen, and I'm not sure I would ever want it to.

So, until Friday, shed a tear for us, think of us, pray for us. It's been a rough journey, and it's far from over. It blows my mind and breaks my heart to think that we should have a 2-year-old running around this house.