Today my darling Thomas, three years ago, you were born. You gave us a precious 3 hours, and then went to be with your sister in heaven.
I have been trying to think of today as your birthday, the day you were born, rather than the day you died. But it’s so so damn hard. Because this day is shadowed by the fact that you died. And the traumatic way that you came into this world. And these anniversary days just suck, period, no matter what you try to do, and how you try to frame it. They are just f-ing awful.
I have felt sensitive all week, really just not myself at all, the build up to this day always being awful. I haven’t slept well, and have been relying on sleeping tablets to allow me to get a few hours of restless sleep, We hadn’t planned anything specific today but I knew that I needed to exercise this morning, to do a hard SWEAT1000 class. To try and help me to cope with my PTSD a little. Because days like this make it bad again. I have flashbacks and relive so much of it. I needed to be pushing myself physically to try and stop myself remembering that time 3 years ago when I went into labor with you. When I had the placental abruption and Steffis face when she examined me and could feel your little foot coming out, you breech. And the chaos that then ensued. It’s all still so fresh, like it happened yesterday, not 3 years ago. I hoped that somehow, if I was pushing myself physically this morning, it wouldn’t give me the mental space to be able to relive too much of the trauma. I am not sure it really helped, but it was with a try.
My little boy, I often wonder what it would have been liked if you had lived, it’s not as easy to imagine as it is with Bella, because we had 7.5 precious months with her and just a few hours with you. Also, because you were born so medically compromised it is also hard for me to imagine what our reality would have been like. And I never dare to think about how it would have been if I had gone full term, if my body hadn’t betrayed us like it did.
But it’s also on days like this that I am so so grateful for your brother, for the shining light that he is. How much he helps to heal my heart. He knew that it was your birthday today, and so we had a lovely day doing things I am sure you would have enjoyed – the promenade and play area, a McDonalds happy meal, time at the Vineyard with a milkshake, time at your bench. And as we put him to sleep tonight he was asking questions all about you. I am reminded again how truly lucky I am, and how very very grateful I am that I still have your brother. Because days like this would be so much harder if we didn’t have him, it’s too difficult to even think about.
I miss you every day and yearn for what could have been, what a difference you would have made to our little family. I love you my precious third born, now and always.