This one really snuck up on me.
I was sitting on my bedroom floor, matching sock pairs, and it hit me. Today is the 19th.
And I don’t feel much of anything, in that regard.
And I refuse to feel guilty about that.
I am busy living my life right now – as boring and one-dimensional as that may be. I eat, I rest, I do what little I can around my home without breaking too many bedrest rules. I watch a lot of HGTV and Food Network; I read a LOT of books and even more blogs. I toss feminine names around in my head all day long, trying out different combinations. I think about Seth; his vocabulary, his potty training, his eating habits – all the things a mom-of-a-toddler thinks about.
And being consumed with the well-being of my son and husband, and becoming wonderfully excited and preoccupied with the looming arrival of our daughter, I find there is little space or energy to be drawn into the missing of Duncan.
There are daily reminders of him, to be sure. Each day, I lather on the same cocoa butter body lotion I used during his pregnancy. I methodically price items for the spring consignment sale, fully aware that I no longer have need for baby boy onesies. Each time my mind scrambles to calculate Baby Girl’s kick count, I think of my sweet second son.
I think of him; I remember my time with him. But do I miss him?
That’s hard to answer. Or maybe I just don’t want to, for fear that the honest answer isn’t the “politically correct” one.
So maybe we’ll just leave the truth of that one between Duncan and me.
You will always BE, baby boy. Your place in our family is uniquely yours and absolutely secure. You are forever loved; forever a part of us. Thank you for the lessons in love and life that you had no idea you would teach me. I will forever be a better mommy to your brother and sister because of how you changed me. I love you.