Today was....so very hard. Tanner is 15 days old today. It's gone by so fast. It's such a short amount of time, but there has been so much love crammed into the last 15 days. It's hard to remember a time when he was not woven into the fabric of our lives. He fits right into our little family, and I spend huge portions of the day just soaking him up. Sometimes he'll be sleeping and look so sweet that I just have to stop what I'm doing to hold him in my arms. We've been missing a little boy in our lives for such a long time.
But all day I was thinking of Matthew, and the 15 days we had with him. And I don't feel gratitude today. I feel terrified. What if 15 days is all I get with Tanner? What if he slips away while I'm sleeping (obviously using my little apnea monitor tonight) and not watching him? For that matter, what if something happens to Roo? I've had nearly 6 years with her and it's STILL not enough.
Today I can't find that place where I can say, "We are grateful for the time we had with him. I know it's more than many people get." On good days I can find that place. But it's April, the month of Matthew's birth and death. And my newborn son is 15 days old. So today, I'm angry. I mean...what a fucking rip off. Am I the only one who sometimes looks at people who lost children older than our own and wishes that they could've had as much time? It's ridiculous, really. It's not like anyone who's lost a child has won the time jackpot. We ALL got ripped off. We ALL have gaping holes in our lives where that child once was no matter what age the child died at. Why do I have to console myself with crap like, "Oh, at least we got 15 days with him?" If my child had lived I could just bounce around halfway taking my children for granted like the assholes you run into ALL the time do. Like healthy babies grow on trees or something.
I don't mean to sound ungrateful. Actually, scratch that. I hate that I feel guilty for sounding ungrateful. The truth is, 15 days really does suck. Am I a bad person for saying so?
If Matthew had lived, I'd be done having children. My pregnancy and recovery from this one were so hard, I honestly don't think I'd do it again if he was with us. If he had lived my family would be complete now. Two boys and a girl. Wouldn't that be perfect?
Sigh. I guess it really never does get easy to get through these anniversaries and landmarks, does it? I don't want to feel angry when I wake up tomorrow. I want to be back in the warm little place of gratitude that I've been in since my little guy was born safely. So as usual, I just took advantage of my blog and dumped all my emotional baggage. I promise I have a few more cheerful posts on the assembly line. With sweet baby pictures. In case that helps.