Friday, September 25, 2015
Sebastian is exactly 18 months to the day, today.
It's hard to believe that one and a half years ago, I had just given birth to my twins. Looking back I had such a long, hard journey to navigate. Dealing with the death of Molly; and dealing with a newborn miracle, who refused to be put down and who had colic for the first three months of his life.
I read back through my twin archives the other day, and realised a few things:
1) I have come far. It was so painful and so raw and so shit a year ago. 18 months ago. It was inconceivable that I'd ever be able to be 'normal' again.
2) Time heals, and it helps. But is NEVER goes away. The death of a child is something you learn to live with. It just is a part of you and you begin to accept it. It doesn't define you, but it is a huge part of you and who you are as a result of it.
3) I think about Molly everyday. There isn't a day that goes by when I don't think about what she would look like, how she and Sebastian would be interacting, if she had my hair or the Brit's, how they'd fight over toys, if they had their own secret language and the twin outfits I'd dress them in.
4) The milestones hurt. Like today. These are the moments I let myself sob away in the kitchen, or reach out to friends who know how I feel (mostly because they've gone through the same horrific thing.)
But today, like all milestones, it's bittersweet. Because while what was meant to be never was, I am absolutely besotted with my little boy.
I am the ultimate helicopter, doting parent. And I'm not even sorry.
He throws tantrums, frowns, giggles and smiles in equal measure, and I love him more everyday. If that's even possible.
He is my absolute joy and sunshine; he is the reason I carry on everyday. The reason I do anything, ultimately comes down to him.