21 months

Milestones are interesting.  Some mean more to one individual than to another.  Many of the milestones Preston reached, such as smiling, giggling and rolling over, mean more to me than to the average parent.  They did when they happened, and they do now that they are all I have.  Someone's child walking for the first time might mean more to them because they were told their child would never walk.  There are so many variables that come into play.

The milestones I've had to deal with over the last 17 months though, are much different to what I would have imagined.  The first weeks without Preston, the first month, the first year, his first birthday that he never got to celebrate on Earth.  What's striking to me though is how some of them are harder than others when you don't feel like they should be.  For example, on Wednesday, Preston should have turned 21 months old.  It's not one of those anniversaries that you hear about often, like the 1st birthday, turning 18 months, or two years.  Just 21 months.  It hit me really hard, for no apparent reason.

Perhaps it's that it got me thinking how I need to prepare for #SpreadHappinessForPreston day, coming up in less than 3 months now.  Or perhaps it's because just a month after his 2nd birthday, he should be meeting his sister for the first time.  Or perhaps, it's just that the hole that was etched into my heart when he died, is still just as large as it was on that horrible day.

I struggled with guilt again.  Why was I okay on his 18 month birthday, but not today?  Why do I feel decently most of the time when it feels like I should still be heavily grieving?  What is wrong with me? Does that mean I loved my child less than other parents?  What could I have done? Should I do anything differently this time around?

The truth is, I don't have any of those answers, other than knowing that I loved and continue to love Preston more than I ever though humanly possible.  Him not being here, doesn't make me love him less, it just makes it more difficult because I don't have many ways of expressing it toward him.  I can't tell him to his face.  I can't kiss him.  I can't hug him.  I can't show him how proud I am of him.

But, I can do what I've been doing.  I can continue to try and be the best person that I can be.  I can continue to try and motivate others, whether they are going through a similar journey or not.  I can continue to smile every day to honor Preston, who adored smiling and giggling.  I can continue to share him with the world and hope to touch someone's heart.  With his story, or simply with the happiness that you see on his face.  That is his legacy and I will continue shouting it on top of mountain tops as long as I'm around.  Will it change the world?  Probably not, but I owe it to him to try.