When I have to fight back tears on my way to work just for the sake of visibility, I can tell it’s going to be a bad day. On bad days, the littlest things are hard to get through. On days like today, I avoid my phone, I don’t turn on regular TV, just in case a huggies commercial comes on, and when in public, I avoid babies and pregnant women at all costs. On bad days, I stare at the few pictures I have of my baby boy, because I miss him more than I’ve ever missed anyone or anything in my entire life.
I sometimes find it strange that I miss him. I feel as though I never really got to meet him. I did know him, though. My Skylar was a stubborn little boy like his mama; he almost always gave the ultrasound techs a hard time. He liked ketchup like his daddy. I’ve always hated ketchup, but I couldn’t get enough while I was pregnant. Now, I eat ketchup even though I don’t really like it, because it makes me think of the time I had with my sweet boy. He was an early bird like his daddy, and would kick so much in the early mornings, that I couldn’t go back to sleep after Michael left for work.
I miss him, I miss his sweet face. I sometimes get so angry. I’ve wanted to be a Mommy for what seems like my entire life. Even though people tell me I am a mommy, I don’t think it’s true. I never got to bring home my baby boy. I never got to see him open his eyes, or hear him cry. My, how badly I wanted to hear him cry. I remember when he was born, I still had this glimmer of hope that I couldn’t quite snuff out. I knew he was gone, but what if a miracle happened? I held my breath for what seemed like forever, all the time begging god to make my baby boy cry. I would have given anything.
I try to tell myself that I did everything right, but I can’t help but think it’s my fault, and that I somehow failed him. Everything I read that would help him, I did. I slept with his blanket every single night; because people said it would be comforting for it to smell like me. I sang to him every single day, because people said he would be able to recognize the tune, and it would soothe him. It’s almost chilling, what I would sing to him. It’s almost like I knew.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
You make me happy when skies are gray.
You’ll never know, dear. How much I love you.
So please don’t take my sunshine away.
My momma used to always joke that my mood controlled the weather. The day Skylar was born, there were storms everywhere. It stopped raining just long enough for us to get home from the hospital. It thundered, and hailed to no end. I used to always think my momma was silly for saying my mood and the weather were somehow linked.
Today the sky is gray, and it is raining. Today, it is very real to me that my sunshine is gone.