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.