My Angel

Wish I had pictures to post of my first born son. He would be three today. Images float through my head of him running around the house, with Catie tottering behind and little Brandon screaming upstairs. It's been three years since the day he simultaneously entered and departed the world.

For all this time, writing publicly about him has seemed impossible--like it would somehow cheapen the experience of his time with me. Yet, I'm writing with tears welling up in my eyes. I don't know exactly why I'm writing--especially on a blog and as a status update on Facebook for that matter. I guess I feel it takes weight off of my heart and gives him a memory here on earth (a place he only experienced in my belly!).

I pray for faith everyday because I have to believe that God needed him up in heaven for some special purpose. Selfishly, I still wish he could be here with me. Right after I lost my son, someone told me the best way to move on with my life would be to get pregnant again. Maybe getting pregnant two additional times did help me move on in many ways, but it did NOT make me forget.

I know that I will remember, love and dream of Kevin as my son for the rest of my life. I suppose each year I will imagine him as he would be if he had lived with me from the time he was born. So, now he's a energetic three year old dashing around our house, chasing the dogs and laughing with his siblings. 10 years from now, he'll be a teenager arguing with me and so on. The cool thing is that I can imagine him any way that I want him to be. The uncool thing is that I'll don't get to have him here with me day after day.

My Dad used to talk about some guy who debated when the soul actually entered the body (I can't imagine spending your career pondering such a question). I know that there is no answer to this, but I'd like to believe that Kevin was with me for the entire five months I was pregnant. Even though I didn't know him as an independent human being, I'd like to believe his time with me created a sacred bond between us. I'd like to imagine meeting him up in heaven and knowing without a doubt that he's my little boy.


The prayer that continues to help me when I think of my first little man:

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning rush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there.
I did not die.


XOXO sweet Kevin.