it's okay to cry: a mother's love for her angel baby.

It's been a while since we lost our first child. 2 years and 3 months, actually. Somehow, in those 2 years and 3 months, my pain hasn't gotten better, it's just gotten different.

I used to grieve for my empty womb, the thought that I was not a mother and never would be, the idea of having a dead child, knowing I would never hold my first child on this earth.

Now I no longer have an empty womb; I've carried another child for 9 months and am currently almost 6 months in to carrying another child. I am a mother to a beautiful 14 month old little boy. But I still grieve.

Now, I grieve for my son's older sibling that he will never get to play with. I should have a 19 month old child right now. I think about how if we had never lost our Peanut, we wouldn't have Ezra. I think about if that child would be just like Ezra, and how if he was a boy, he would've had Ezra's name. I feel guilty for thinking about that, because I wouldn't trade Ezra for anything.

I shouldn't have to sweep my miscarriage under the rug. No mother should. I shouldn't have to avoid talking about my child just so people aren't uncomfortable. When people ask me how many children I have, I usually say "one son, and one on the way" but not because I don't consider Peanut my child, and not to avoid making them feel awkward, but because I don't want to start crying out in public. Yes, I know that it's "been long enough" that I shouldn't have to cry about our loss anymore. But I still do. The pain may not be fresh but it still feels that way sometimes.

I may not cry every day now, and not even every time I'm reminded of our sweet Peanut, but I haven't just "gotten over it" or "moved on" like some people think I should have. My love for my child has not faded. Every time I see Ezra, I think I cherish Peanut even more, knowing I won't see him take his first steps or call me "mama" or give me kisses like Ezra does. I may have only had 8 weeks with Peanut but I was his mother, the only person he knew, the only person who really knew him. 

I wrote this the day we found out Peanut had gone to heaven:

"Dear little Peanut, I want you to know mommy and daddy loved you very much. Your whole family did. We were so prepared for your arrival but Jesus decided to take you home sooner. Daddy kissed mommy's belly every single day and even though your little ears couldn't hear it, we talked to you and poked you and prayed for you and talked about how cute you were gonna be. We love you VERY much and will see you soon. Dance with Jesus for us and say hi to our loved ones up there with you. We find peace knowing you are in Jesus' arms. We love you!

I truly meant what I wrote. Now that my grandmother is up in Heaven, too, I just know that she is with my sweet baby, and that honestly makes me feel better. I know that I will see my baby again some day. But I still grieve. I still cry. I still miss him. I will probably always cry at times. I will always miss him. And I may never understand why I don't have him here with me. But that's okay.