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.

Positively February: Day 12

"Life isn't a matter of milestones, but of moments" - Rose Kennedy

My husband has told me several times that I should try not to make a milestone out of everything.  His words are wise, yet I struggle not to do so.  I've hit the one year mark from when I returned to work from my maternity leave, and I'm a month away from landing on the one year that marks the last time I saw my little boy wiggle around.  It's difficult not to see these dates come, or acknowledge what is or what should be.

However, today, I'm reminded that I should continue to strive to not make milestones out of every day, out of every missed "firsts".  I had a particularly difficult afternoon.  I had a dentist appointment with a specialist, and the receptionist commented on my necklace: "That's a beautiful necklace!  Is it for your children?".  Me: "Yes, it was given to me by my aunt, uncle and cousins after my son passed away last year".  Receptionist: "Well it's absolutely beautiful".  I couldn't look her in the eye.  I felt like I'd made her uncomfortable even when it wasn't my intention.  Perhaps I didn't make her uncomfortable, I just don't know, but it was the feeling that overtook me.  I later had to explain my blood pressure issue to one of the assistants, which again prompted me to bring up Preston's passing.  More feelings of awkwardness.

I usually don't feel this way when I speak of my son.  I must have just been more emotional today.  Or maybe I felt vulnerable because I was at the dentist.  I don't like going, like most.  Or maybe, it was just one of those rough days that I touched on yesterday.  I did, try to take the advice from yesterday's quote and remind myself of my track record.  It helped.

I also had an appointment with my OB.  My final check-up regarding my blood pressure (which was fine).  My OB is really sweet, and so easy to talk to.  I was vulnerable from my earlier thoughts and conversations.  We talked about future pregnancies, about Preston.  She mentioned how much she loved what we did for his birthday.  We talked about how closely she would follow me once I become pregnant, one day.  She said there would be more appointments, more ultrasounds.  Basically, a lot of it would be for my mental health as she understands how much of a mess I will be.

It's interesting to long for something yet fear it.  I don't fear it enough to let it deter me, but I know there will be tough moments, having had both a miscarriage and lost an infant.  A pregnancy would be cause for great joy, and excitement.  But there would be moments of pure fear.  The same once I would hold my baby, and probably throughout the first year, and past.

My OB reminded me that all parents fear for their children.  They all think about SIDS, or car accidents, or kidnappings.  It isn't because I feared that SIDS could happen, that it did happen.  It was just the 1 in X.  It made me cry but it made me feel better.  She told me about a patient she had whose firstborn was stillborn but went on to have 2 other children.  She's looking into obtaining contact information for me to talk to her.  I feel blessed to have special in my life, that are willing to do what they can to make things easier for me.

But the thing that really just turned my day around?  My friend Krystal gave birth to her little girl today.  A perfect little lady.  And that gave me hope.  It made me remember that I have great moments to hold on to.  Preston may have never walked, or talked.  He may never have blown out candles or crawled.  But every day, I can remember the wonderful moments he gave me.  The smiles he gave me.  The way he would kick his little feet all_the_time.  The way he always wanted to say something.  The nights where I'd rock him to sleep and just hold him even when he'd been asleep for hours.

Life really isn't about milestones.  It's about the moments.  Cherish those moments.  They are more precious than you realize.