Easter

So much for getting a blog post up every week...oh well.

It's been hard to write again.  I'm raw this month.  My wounds are re-opened, time and time again.  First, the passing of Alfy's birthday two weeks ago.  Now the Easter holiday.  It escapes most people (or at least no one acknowledges if they've made the connection) that Alfy was born on Good Friday.  Tony and I left the hospital on Holy Saturday with empty arms.  We had to buy an outfit to bury our 1 lb. 11 oz, 13 1/4" little man in on Easter Sunday.  Not much for options.  In an ironic twist, if you would dare call it that, we ended up at Babies R Us that year, looking for a preemie outfit that seemed suitable to bury your baby in.  We opted for fleece, foot pajamas.  It seemed the coziest option.  I measured how long a preemie outfit was (on another occasion not long ago).  It measures about the same length Alfy was born at, so I'm guessing it was a bit big on him.  I don't know though, we never got to see him again.  

Easter has left me very raw this year.  Most haven't seen my freshly opened wounds.  I don't know how to share them.  But they are there, and they hurt, so much.

I'm glad Vinny is here with us.  He brings so much joy to the pain.  I wish I could describe it better to others.  It is an incredible feeling.  When they say you never truly feel great joy until you've felt great sorrow, they are right, whoever they are that said that.  The joy is compounded by the sorrow and the sorrow by the joy.  It's so complex, it's like two DNA strands, one side being joy and the other great sorrow, connected by complex acids of life and death.  

This Easter has drained me, this month has drained me.  I don't remember feeling this tired in quite some time, even with a 7 month old at home.  On that note, it's off to bed I go.

Happy Easter.

2nd Birthday

As I type this, it's been two years, 12 hours and 28 minutes since Alfy was born, 11:05am.  I don't know if I shared that in his story, I'm sure I probably did.  

I should be in bed right now, getting rested up for the full week of work to come.  But I can't.  I don't want to let go of the day.  I didn't want it to come and now I don't want it to leave.  

I miss my son.  I wish he were here, with his brother, learning new words, braving the stairs on the deck over and over again, refusing to eat all of his supper, snuggling at night as we read "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" before bed.  Today we would have had cake and ice cream, or maybe cupcakes instead of cake, or better yet maybe just brownies as cake.  

Instead, we had a picnic at the cemetery.  We took Alfy balloons and flowers and had lunch and took pictures.  When I get around to downloading them, maybe I'll share them here.  



Alfy, Happy 2nd Birthday in Heaven.  I miss you and love you.   Mom