My baby is grown. He is a little boy. Running, chatting, sprouting an ever bigger personality. It’s a wonderful time, but my mind has not caught up. I still see him as my little cuddly bundle. It's only when I see 6 month-olds that I realise how far away we are from baby-hood. He can still be my sweet baby, crawling up into my lap for snuggles from mom at those times when he needs a little recharge. The he's up and off, going about his grown up business.
As I look back, I've learned a lot. Also, I can't think of what life is about, if not this little family that we have. What did I ever do before? I wonder even, what was important to me before? It's like looking back into another existence, another lifetime. I've learned about children, obviously, but I've learned more about people, life, relationships and myself.
Seeing this tender life come up, I'm constantly reminded that the most important thing - the only important thing! - in life is love. How much time I wasted worrying about the pregnancy, how to feed him, what stuff we would provide him. Now that I have had a chance to get to know him, to see what a child really needs, I worry less about the periphery stuff. I want to give him whatever he wants, if I can. But I know the most valuable thing I can give is love. Whatever life has dealt us and whatever it will bring, love is what he will measure his life by.
And two years on, Noah is still in my heart. I feel like I want to share that I still cry, almost daily. Sometimes just a silent tear or two whenever his memory feels near to me. I don't fight it. I see it as part of my special role as his mother. I will cry for him forever, missing him with every fibre of my body, like a pain. I possibly miss him more as I see Ethan's personality grow. I wonder. I 'what if'. I get angry. I cry for his pain. But that's the role I accept out of the love I have for him.
Yesterday, after some celebrations, presents and cake, Thom and I found a quiet moment to light a candle and think about that day two years ago. Two years ago, when we met our two little boys. We just sat in the silence, watching the candle flame flicker, holding hands and letting the joy and sadness sweep through us for a while. Wishing it could have been different and yet thankful. Complete in happiness and broken in painful grief. Two years on, and it amazes me how there can be two such different feelings at the same time; how I can hold such sadness and such joy.