Dreaming

Was it all a dream?  It is a thought I keep fighting as I struggle with memories.  Days creep on and time grows further from when I last kissed my son goodbye.  The amount of days I saw his beautiful face is something I can count on one hand.  The amount of time I bonded with him, got to know him and felt his movement is about 4 percent of my lifetime, and grows less every day that I spend here.  As I think of the time I had with him memories slowly fade into a different part of my brain.  Now when I remember him it feels more like a dream, a movie I watched.  How has the precious time I spent with my son turned into something that feels more distant from my reality.  

I wouldn't say I moved on with my life. But I have continued it.  I lost my baby.  Said goodbye to my son.  It ripped me to pieces yet I am still here, it did not break me.  I continue to pursue a positive future for myself and my family and time races on and sadly that means my days spent without my son only grow.

I have his pictures throughout my house, I use to stand there and stare at them for so long, never knowing the amount of time that passed.  Now I am here running by them on my way to one of a million places.  My life is speeding on and I feel like I am leaving Emery in the dust.

Every night I think of him before bed.  I hope that pictures thoughts and memories will make me dream of him, but somehow my mind wanders in my sleep to much less satisfying dreams.

Looking at his baby books my heart breaks.  It is not fair that I have it all memorized, it is not fair I dont get to keep adding new pictures, and milestone dates.  It is not fair that I am the only one who ever looks at them.  

It is such an awkward world living in a place where you lost your child.  With my daughter people asked to see new pictures, to see her baby books.  But with Emery it seem like I am in a private world no one speaks about.  There are times when I feel like the only person in the world to remember him.  I am not unrealistic, I know that a mother will always care more about their child then the rest of the world, but I feel as though he never existed.  It is so funny how much it means to me when someone mentions him.  If they say they thought of him, or tell me about a dragonfly they saw.  If they tell me they read my blog or like a picture I posted.  I dont need him to have changed your world, but its nice to it be acknowleged that he existed.  Especially when I myself am feeling like it wasn't real.

I can never change the fact my son will never be back into my life.  I cant change that instead of making new memories I am praying the handful I have doesnt slip through my fingers.  There are pictures I cant share, memories I cant explain, its something no one will ever quiet understand.  Even in his baby book I had to edit out some of my favorite picture of him.  Having a baby with a physical deformity is a hard thing for an outsider to grasp.  In my eyes he was perfect from head to toe but I understand that he doesn't fit the standard for "normal".  If I could make my son be healthy and here I would.  But at the same time I would never want to change him, and make him something that wasnt who he is.  Because I think he was still perfect.

That is how I remember him, perfect.  It doesnt mean I imagine an alternate reality where he had the bones in his head, actually the opposite, I remember every curve of his face, every piece that was there.  It may not be what the world expected but every bit of him was amazing.  

I wish it felt real.

I wish that I had more time with him.

I wish time would have been different so he had been here more then a fraction of my life.

I wish forever wasn't so long.

I wish my son was here, crawling around my house.

I wish I could be cuddling him.