Zoe

My sister and niece flew in today for the holidays. I hate that my sister lives so far and I that I miss watching my niece grow up.  I'm so excited that we are able to see them for special occiassions and wish those special occassions were every weekend.  My mom picked them up at the airport and I was able to meet them for lunch and dessert after.  Of course the frozen yogurt shop was empty because who likes frozen yogurt when it's 50 degrees and windy outside?  My family of course.  ;)  Since it was empty Jess put Zoe down and told her to "go crazy".  Mind you she's almost 2 so her energy knows no end.  She was so cute. She jumped and ran around the chairs and through the tunnels of the chair bottoms.  She was our after lunch entertainment.  Her version of "dancing", giggling at her momma, smiling at ma-pa (grandma), telling us how delicious her yogurt was, made my heart hurt.  I want that.  I love that when she sees a picture of Urijah, she knows who he is and is able to call him by his name, well the name she can pronounce, I-ya.  I wish she could have played with him.  She would have made a great older cousin.  I know she will be a fun older cousin for my niece that will be born shortly.  They would have made an entertaining trio.  I was looking forward to it. 

I came home after we ate, my heart heavy all the way home.  I cried in the car as I listened to "Jesus Loves Me", the song I would sing to him as I held him.  He would fall asleep on my chest when I sang it, his little hand grasping at my skin.  I can still feel his little nails, I can still hear his little sleeping moans. 

I've largely avoided his nursery.  I can't bring myself to go into the room we still have decorated, waiting for him.  My chihuahua was crying at the nursery door.  He wanted in.  Funny dog.  I opened it and he ran in looking for something he thought he needed.  I noticed a blanket on the floor.  It was one of the receiving blankets we used for his incubator.  I picked it up and smiled.  We had washed all his blankets after he passed, with the exception for the last blanket he ever laid on.  Steve put that blanket into a ziplock bag because he didn't want the smell to go away.  It still smells like him. 

I picked up the fallen blanket (not in a ziplock) and held it to my cheek, remembering the last time I saw him using this particular blanket.  There was a rough patch on the blanket.  I scratched at it and realized it was spit up.  I cried and held it tight.  There was something oddly comforting about it.  What mom is excited about seeing spit up on a blanket?  Me.  That was from my baby.  My heart longs to clean up more spit up.  I want diapers, I want to wash baby clothes, I want to be comforting a crying baby, I want the giggles, the jumping, the dancing, the craziness.  I pray everyday that I get to experience it all.  What an honor and what a priveledge it would be. 

I put the blanket in his crib.  Shooed the dogs out and closed the door.  It will probably stay closed for months.  I went to the living room and turned on the TV.  Dr. Phil was on.  I don't particularly care for Dr. Phil but I left it on after I realized he was talking to parents who have lost children.  Parts of it were just meant for me to hear.  To know that others have the bad days, the good days.  That it was ok to laugh and feel joy and it was ok not to be ok, like today. 

I always feel so much better after I write it all out, even if know one ever reads it.  It's become my release on hard days and I'm thankful for the outlet.  Thank your for letting me share my journey, my pain and my love.