It’s been a while again since my last post. I’m sure you understand. It’s been a rough eight months since Marc died.
Moises and I have been through hell and back. Everything has been a giant rollercoaster of emotion. Heck, our relationship has been a rollercoaster. Loss can often take a gargantuan toll on a marriage. I got lucky. Moises and I are there for each other and closer than ever.
I got a tattoo for him. It’s a bunny because his favorite toy was his bunny.
We got a new dog. Her name is Amy. She is a sweet girl and my personal bodyguard. She fits in perfectly with our crazy little family. She might pee a little when she’s scared, but she makes up for it with how fiercely loyal she is to us!
We received some big news a while ago. I would have shared, but I didn’t have the heart to write a post before now. We are pregnant again. It’s another boy! His name will be Mateo.
Some days, it makes me happier than I thought was possible after losing Marc. Other days, it’s a giant reminder of all I’ve lost. Some days, his kicks calm me and remind me of all I have to live for. Other days, it’s my own special hell. How is it possible that I am the mom of two beautiful boys, but neither one is in my arms? How is it possible to hold so, so much love in my heart for my babies, but have no tiny faces to kiss and cuddle? How is it possible to feel such a heavy pain and such an uplifting joy at the same time?
Mateo is our little dancer. He is already so very different. Where Marc was still and attention seeking, Mateo is active and a little shy. For all of Marc’s ultrasounds, he barely moved unless it was so we could get a better picture of him. For all of Mateo’s ultrasounds, he moved so much, it was hard to get measurements. We’re just lucky that we could get a clear picture of gender! He tried to hide from the wand and kick it out of the way. I love him so much. He is truly a Godsend. That’s what his name means: ‘gift of God’. I don’t know if I would have made it through these last seven months without knowing that my rainbow is coming. That will probably be the tattoo that I get for Mateo-a rainbow.
One thing that has significantly helped me has been the move. We moved out of the house we were living in when Marc died. We moved into a new house. Since moving in, I have noticed a significant change in my attitude and mood. I feel more motivated to do things around the house. I have been more on top of our finances. I have been happier. I think it was depressing me and killing me slowly to keep living in the old house. I still slept in the same room where I found Marc not breathing. I still sat and watched TV in the same room where Moises did CPR. I still cooked and did dishes in the same kitchen where Marc would dance to music with me while I was doing things. His room, where his stuff had been remained untouched. It is nearly impossible to move on from such a traumatic event when you stay in the same place. It has not, however, helped Moises. It was hard for him to let go of the only place that he lived and took care of Marc. Sure, it was the site of the memories I listed above, but there were other memories. The wall in the hallway was where Moises leaned when he gave Marc a bottle for the first time. The shower in our room is where he gave Marc a bath for the first time. The living room was the place that he heard Marc laugh for the first time and where he saw Marc smile every time he came home from work. I have good memories of Marc that are housed in other places, but Moises doesn’t. And I understand how difficult it was for him to put my need to get out before his own need to stay close to the memories of our son. I am eternally grateful to him for that. In time, he will come to see this new house as home too. New house, new baby, new start. Not that we could ever forget our sweet, perfect Marc. It’s just good to aid in our lives moving forward.
The last few weeks have been so hard. One by one, my friend’s babies have turned one. Marc would have too, but…he won’t ever. My first-born will never smash up a cake for his first birthday. It’s like a special kind of torture. I am so happy for my friends. Their babies are adorable and it’s wonderful that they reached the one-year milestone. It just hurts to see my friends experiencing things with their babies that I will never get with Marc. The cute birthday party, the face full of cake, and the clumsy almost-opening of presents will forever be just a fantasy in my head for Marc.
One year ago today, I finally gave birth to my precious little angel. One year ago, I never imagined that it would be possible to suffer so much and be blessed so much in such a short period of time. One year ago, I never would have imagined that this would be my life.
Happy birthday baby boy. Mommy loves you forever and always.