It’s been one whole year since I held you in my arms. One whole year since I kissed those chubby cheeks, blew raspberries on those double chins, rubbed that little soft fur head and held that tiny hand.
One whole year.
In many ways it’s hard to believe that it has been a year already, in other ways it seems like it was in a another lifetime. The pain is still as severe and breath taking as it was in that moment when I knew you had gone. The ache inside, is actually deeper that it has ever been. With each day that passes, the longing to hold you again becomes harder to bear. And yet, with each hour that we endure, we know we are closer than we were in the hour before, til we sing Incy Wincy with you again.
We miss you Elijah B. We miss you so very much. J, S and L still talk about you every single day. They talk of things that you did, the moments that they enjoyed with you. They talk of how you would have enjoyed the walk at Castle Ward, or the hotel that we stayed in for half term – they reckon you would have loved the swimming pool. We all think about what we would have dressed you up as for our Light Party, and just recently I had a melt down in M&S because I know, that if you were here, I’d have totally kitted you out in all the Paddington clothes that they have in at the moment. Your chubby-ness would have been just adorable in that navy tank top and checked shirt! And do not even get me started on how cute you’d have been in that onesie!
Time is a healer in some sense of the word. I can forgive the doctor who could only find a vein in your forehead, and I can get over the hurt caused by the consultant who suggested, it was maybe my ‘bad egg’ that caused all of this to happen. But time does not heal the hole that has been left with your absence from this earth. Time does not heal the fact that you should be here. That pain will never be healed by time. Thank goodness we have eternity!
So. It’s been a year. The most difficult year that I have ever had to face. Yet, despite that there were moments that were so full of joy.
The day the lady asked a friend, “is that Elijah’s mummy?” …. the fact that she didn’t ask, “is that the girl whose baby died?”. It thrills my heart to be called your mummy. I will forever be your mummy.
The day that someone said, “your Elijah changed the way I pray”.
The day I was told, “it was an honor to work with your son.”
The day I heard someone say, “Elijah B changed my life”.
Or in someone’s testimony, “a little baby of 5 months old, showed me I needed God in my life.”
Whilst the past year has been incredibly painful in so many ways, my heart is full of love and joy and pride and honor to be your mummy, Elijah, what an amazing little boy you are.
It’s been a year ……..