Tommy Jr was born a month ago yesterday. A small black “29″ is written on my calendar this week. Tommy would be one month old if he were still with us on earth, but would be 29 weeks old if he were still in my belly.
I took the last 8 surgical stickers off my c-section incision yesterday and had a bit of a meltdown. I was crying and crying in the shower and I could suddenly feel Tommy’s presence. He was reassuring me, urging me not to cry. Having him near me is such a comfort, it has stopped the hopelessness I was feeling.
A friend wrote me an email yesterday explaining his belief that Tommy Jr is not “gone forever” as I have written a couple times here. He is a religious man but couched his beliefs in a way that an ex-cynic like myself couldn’t deny. I do believe that Tommy is still with me, and that he always will be. I believe that Tom Sr and I will be with our baby again, in another life, on another plane of energy. I have to believe that to honor what Tommy taught us, and because I feel it as a truth.
But I’m being my best self as I write this. I’m being my most loving, hopeful, optimistic self. When I’m being my worst self, my fearful bitter self, I can’t stand not having my boy with me physically. When I walk to and from work I keep finding myself walking behind families with young children, or mothers with babies. Sometimes I cry, right there on the street. I cry because I feel lonely and scared and lost. I cry because I won’t see Tommy grow up. Other times I smile and feel my baby with me too. And I smile because I’m a mother, and Tom Sr is a father, and we always will be.
Tom Sr and I are committed to honoring our son. He came to us to remind us how special our love for each other is, and how special we are as individuals. I think Tommy Jr. knew he would only have a short time on earth and he chose to come to us. He chose us because we could access the joy and love for each other and for him, despite the heartache we’ve suffered since he left.
Happy Birthday sweet baby. Thank you for being our son. We miss your little body, your sweet skin (remember how I called you my little hot dog baby?), your big hands and feet, your reaching out to us, your perfect little ears and nose and beautiful face. But we are so happy to have your loving, strong spirit with us now.
You will always honor your son. In the little intimate whisper details of your marriage. In the way that you will carry yourself from this day forward. In the way that you will be when you have given yourself back to being your “annoyingly optimistic” self. I can never empathize. And sympathy only goes so far. Just know that your journey has many loving eyes watching from the shadows. If you need anything…
Nathan