Random ramblings of a grieving mother.

I was ironing clothes for my two kids (i hate ironing but do it because i don't want them looking all wrinkly), and it hit me.

Devon's second angelversary is in three weeks.

During this time two years ago, I was breaking in Renata the Sonata and preparing to install the car seat base, blissfully unaware that my life was about to be shattered in a matter of weeks. Days. Oh, how I wish I could remember those days with happiness instead of sadness. Oh, how I wish those hadn't been the last days I'd had with my son.

The pain of his loss hasn't lessened with Mia's arrival. I am beyond grateful that she is a part of this family, but that doesn't make me miss her big brother less. I think about him all the time, but as we get closer and closer to the day he was born sleeping, I think about him almost every moment of every day.

It still amazes me that the littlest things can set me off. Folding Mia's baby socks made me cry the other night. The stack of clothes I bought him - but he'll never wear, and I can't bear to part with just yet - fell out of the closet last week, and I bawled my eyes out as I folded them neatly and stuffed them back on the shelf. I follow a few of the moms from Devon's bump month board on Instagram, and they're planning birthday parties for their almost 2-year-olds. I am so happy that they have those adorable little babies in their lives, but it hurts my heart to watch them grow up and know that I will never celebrate an Earthly birthday with Devon. I will never be bitter or angry towards them, but I am bitter and angry towards my own situation. I discovered last year that Devon's angelversary came with a few weeks of "God, why did you have to take MY baby? Why did it have to be ME that has to go through this?"...and even though I try to fight them, I do let those thoughts linger ever now and then. Why ME? Why MY baby? I try to stay positive in my life because 1.) it feels better to be positive than negative; and 2.) I want my children to see the positive side of me only. But as we inch closer to that angelversary, that negative side rears its ugly head. I only put up a half fight to ward it off, too.

It is emotionally exhausting to live through the loss of your baby. You never know when you're going to have good days or bad days, when something as small as a baby sock - or something as big as watching Return to Zero - will ruin your entire day. I am always on the edge mentally, expecting the worst but hoping for the best. While my optimism is stronger now than it was in the weeks after my loss, I am still not the overly optimistic person I was before Devon died. I totally expect that one of my living children will be taken from me, thoughts that I know will probably send me back to therapy because I just can't live with that fear for much longer. The anxiety, the fear, the sadness, the hurt, the anger...I can suppress it and accept it, but it's hard as hell to move past - and it's impossible to fully forget.

I have met more loss moms over the last year, and their stories break my heart. I watch them go through all the things I went through - absolute disbelief and denial. Unbearable sadness and heartache. Anger - SO much anger. They live in this fog, this haze, just trying to survive each breath without losing their minds to the grief. But then, as the time slowly passes, they come out of that fog and start to live again. They get in shape, pick up new hobbies, have more babies. They have more happy than sad days, don't dwell on the circumstances of the loss as much, start to move forward. But they never, ever forget. I certainly will never, ever forget.

For those who continue to read my blog - even with my depressing posts - thank you. Thanks for your kind words, your support, your love. I will need that more than ever as I come up on another year without my sweet angel boy. It's funny how time continues to move around you, even when your world is standing still.