Dear Aaron,

My sweet boy. Its taken me weeks to write you this letter. Trying to figure out all I wanted to say to you. First off, I want you to know how much we love and miss you. You were taken from us too soon to be able to hold, but certainly not too soon for us to love. You were real to me as soon as we were ready to start trying for another baby. You were real to me when I realized I was pregnant. You were certainly real when I first heard your steady heartbeat at 9 weeks. You were real to me as we made so many plans for you in our family. Real, as we imagined all you'd be.

Losing a child is, without a doubt, the hardest thing a Mother goes through. I've been on an absolute roller coaster of emotions through all this.  Anger, frustration, heartache, pain, grief, fear, and overwhelming love.

 I know that you're in a better place. I am grateful, in some sense, that you never knew cold, pain, hunger, hate or trials of any kind. You only knew warmth and love.

 If I could have even just one minute with you, I would tell you this. I would hold you and kiss you and you would never doubt my love for you. I would tell you how much we wanted you. How we planned for you. How we anxiously awaited for your arrival. How we were so excited to add another brother to our family and the visions of what you would be like.
I have always wanted to have 2 girls, and then 2 boys. In that order. I've had so many thoughts of you and Boston playing together, as brothers especially. I had so looked forward to that. I feel like we not only lost you, but we lost so many of the memories and things we would have shared with you. I think thats the hardest. We didn't get to even really make one 'real' memory with you. Nothing to know you by. Nothing to remember or look back on fondly. Thats what makes the gaping hole you left, so big. It wasn't just you-it was everything you would have been. Everything you would have brought to our family and to the world. I really can't even put into words everything I feel like I've lost.
I hope that you're safe. Happy. I hope that Heavenly Father and Jesus are hugging you, holding you on their knee. I hope they tell you how much we love you. And how much they love you too. I know that there will come a time when we meet again. I will always strive to me my best, so I can make it back to you. When I get there, I will run to you. I can only imagine the happiness I will feel in that moment. You will never be forgotten. You will always be loved. Always be missed. My dear angel boy.
                                                             Love, Mommy

What I know...

The thing with grief is that while others love and support you, it eventually fades. 

Yet, when you're the one going through it, it doesn't end that quickly. 

It doesn't just go away after a month or two. 

But everyone else moves on with their life and you start feeling very alone in your pain. 

But there are a few remaining who continually ask how I am. 

Here's what I know:

-Time doesn't heal all wounds. But it does help. The pain is less. I haven't had an entirely bad day in several weeks. The 'bad' comes in moments or hours now. The pain changes, softens a bit. This is not to say that everyday gets a little bit easier, as if grief progresses in a linear fashion, because moments of intense grief can sneak up on you at any moment, even months later. But in general, the pain and grief I feel today are much different from the pain and grief I felt at the beginning.

“It has been said, ‘time heals all wounds.’ I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.”
― Rose Kennedy

-I am thankful for my kids here on Earth. I find probably more joy in them now. I've always adored my kids, but its just different now. Puts a new perspective on them. I'm more patient and willing to 'waste' the day reading to them, playing with them, and falling asleep with them when they are scared.  I can't tell you how many times in the past 2 months, that I go into Boston's room late at night, scoop him up, and sit in the rocking chair with him. Just cuddling with him and enjoying him. 

-The book the hospital gave me has been incredibly helpful. I read it as often as I get a chance, which lately, hasn't been much. But I'm grateful for it and the solace I find in it. 

-I'm having an internal battle about when we will have more kids. I want more than anything for my kids to be close in age. I think its better. I love it. Right now, we're at a 2.5 year gap. Which I know, isn't that close for most people, but its more than I want. Plus, there are only so many months out of the year that I am willing to have a baby in. I don't want any kids in July, Aug, Sep, Dec or Jan. I know-I'm crazy, but I have my reasons. I love the 'spring' timeline, but not sure I want to wait that much longer. And even though I'm more likely to go on and have a perfectly healthy pregnancy, I cannot even put into words, how truly terrified I am, that I will have another miscarriage. I'm so scared of that, after having been through this one. To have another would be even more devastating. Even thinking about it puts me in a panic. Plus, my periods are still so weird that I wouldn't even know when I'm ovulating.

-Despite the fact, that I have no Christmas spirit this year, I'm forcing myself to do it. I need to do it for my kids. Christmas is such a special time for them-full of wonder and joy. They (mostly) understand what Christmas is, and Jesus's birth. I can't take that away from them. I don't want to ruin any of it for them. It would only make it more painful for everyone. My children are here. Waiting for me to make it special for them. We put up decorations, decorated the tree, have already seen Santa 3x, and I'm doing my best to make it special. I need to do it for them. They deserve it. And doing it for them, has made things easier on me. Its kept me busy and focusing on them-instead of on my pain and grief.

I think what I struggle with most right now is exhaustion. I haven't been sleeping well at all. When I take a sleeping pill though, it helps, but it also makes me sooo drowsy all throughout the next day. So I only take it when I've had a couple bad nights and desperately need sleep. But when I'm tired, then I tend to get cranky, which isn't good for anyone. The physical exhaustion also tends to make my emotional exhaustion worse. I don't get as much done, which leads me to feel overwhelmed and stressed because of everything I need to do. When I feel tired, then I tend to feel 'down' and sad and makes me think of him more. I really just want to be able to sleep again.