A year of healing

One year ago I was laboring in a hospital bed knowing that my baby no longer had a heartbeat and there was nothing I could do to reverse what was happening to me. I was in labor 34 hours with Xander. 34 hours of heartache and gut wrenching sorrow.

Today I sit in my recliner recovering from open-heart surgery reading the kind notes that family and friends have sent me. My heart is full knowing that people acknowledge him and our loss. That is all I ever wanted for him. I'm not sad. I suspect I'm numb. Or perhaps I've grown so much that my strength has turned me into a different person. I no longer weep for what was or what should have been. Instead I shed tears for the legacy he left. Xander gave me more in his short 16 weeks than I think some people get in a lifetime.

I thought today would come and I would need to make a big deal about the anniversary of his death and birth. But today is just like any other day. I miss him the same regardless of what day it is. I will likely think of him and that day a bit more but it is good opportunity to reflect on that time and remind myself how little control I have in life and that moving forward from that tragic time doesn't mean that I'll ever forget him.

There are still many unknowns for us in this life. What I do know is that we wish he were here and we believe he is watching over us and we will see him again someday. My heart will never be the same, nor will my spirit.

Since Xander will never get a birthday celebration, tonight we plan to have cake, release a balloon, light his candle and thank him for reminding us that our hearts are full of more love, strength and compassion than we ever imagined.