365 + 2

It's been 365 days plus 2 since I gave birth to my precious Alfy.  Last week was not exactly a pleasant week for me.  I had a lot of anxiety about the impending anniversary/birthday of my son's death and birth.  It's strange to think that his death came before his birth.  It's not the natural order of life, but it was his life.  Anyways, last week was rough. Lots of anxiety, lots of anger, lots of feeling of uneasiness.  

Tony and I planned a balloon release for Saturday, April 6.  It was at 2pm at the cemetery.  Initially I think we sent out about 60 invitations, we had a total of about 80 people RSVP.  What an overwhelming feeling.  At time, I thought what the hell am I doing?  I'm no good with people and small talk any more and here I was surrounding myself with tons of people.  Part of me felt like it was a disaster waiting to happen.  But it didn't turn out that way.  The balloon release was beautiful.  I think we let almost 100 balloons go at once.  There were all kinds of people there, family, friends, my grief counselor, my nurse that I had at the end of my last day in the hospital.  At Alfy's grave, I created a poster with his handprints and footprints so others could see just how tiny they were.  We also put out a picture of Tony and I holding him.  I think it made our loss more real for others, the picture of our family.  For others, I assume it's easy not to actually think about the physical picture of us with our son, to think about the actual physical presence of Alfy, to think about the fact that I gave birth to this beautiful little boy who was already gone.  I hope the picture showed them what it is that we are going through, that we buried our first born child, that we lost our son.  

Anyways, after the balloon release we invited everyone over to our house before Mass at our church.  It was dedicated to Alfy.  It was beautiful.  Even my OB showed up at the Mass. I was truly touched by the outpouring from everyone.  Normally, those to whom the Mass is dedicated are only mentioned by name.  Our priest mentioned Alfy by his name Alfy, and told the parish that he should have been celebrating his 1st birthday with us, but was instead celebrating with Jesus.  It was very personable and meant so much to Tony and I.

Now it's Monday, I felt like I've needed to document the weekend somehow, but it was almost too hard earlier.  I feel so far removed from my initial intense grief that it's hard to go back to it.  But I want to, I miss it.  I felt closer to Alfy with the intense grief.  Now I feel farther from him, in my grief, in time, physically, in my memories.  I miss it.  I miss him, so very much.  The missing still makes my heart hurt, makes a lump catch in my throat, brings me to my knees.

Alfy, I miss you so much.  I hope you know how much I love and how much you've changed my life.  I read an article over and over again called, "I Would Still Choose You..." and it describes how I feel about you perfectly.  Someday, when you're a bit older, I'll bring it out to share with you.  Until then, just know how much your mom and dad love you and wish we could hold you in our arms again, even if for a brief moment.

I love you,
Mom