Last week I stumbled upon a matching frame and rattle to a music box we bought Elliott after he was born. They were so perfectly timed to find as I have been struggling with the thought of his birthday coming up in a couple of months. I desperately wanted to buy him something but I didn’t know what until I saw these items. I felt like my random find was a sign and took comfort in deciding they would be our gift to him to honour his first birthday.
For a week I have been eagerly awaiting the delivery. I planned where the frame will go and decided that we’d engrave the rattle with “Elliott’s first birthday” and keep it in his keepsake box. I even forethought if we were to ever have another baby they would be able hold and enjoy such a special thing of their big brothers and imagined how beautiful that would be.
Today the parcel arrived. I couldn’t wait to open it. The frame is beautiful and just as perfect as I thought it would be. The rattle, equally as beautiful and perfect. Then I heard the sound it made. A tiny magical twinkle of a sound. Something that sounded so beautiful was the sound of my heartbreak. It broke me- the walls I built so strong fell down and the tears I’ve been holding in snuck out. I walked outside to hide my tears from the children before composing myself to get them sorted for bed. Now I have the freedom to ride the wave, I’m in a million pieces all over the place.
All from the tiny beautiful ring of a silver star rattle.
I want to wrap it up and give it to him on his birthday.
I want him to tear open the paper and try to eat it.
I want my baby to hear that sound.
I want to rattle it in front of his beautiful face and watch him smile.
I want to see him hold it. I want to take photos of him with a party hat on.
I want to hear him laugh and say “mummy” and record his first steps.
I want to be excited about his birthday not filled with this unbearable pain right now.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it a million times over, I just want my baby.
Do I regret buying the rattle? Absolutely not. I needed (for my own comfort) to buy him it and I still feel it’s the perfect gift for him. Despite my heart being crumpled on the floor right now it somehow helps me to have it. It’s not the rattle, it’s not because I bought him something, it’s simply because he’s not here that hurts so much. The rattle didn’t remind me, I am painfully aware of that with every breath I take, it just had the right sound to let my emotions I’ve been holding out.