Tomorrow will mark the day the sun rose shining its light and kissing everything it touched, a day our beautiful second son entered the outside world.
Tomorrow marks the day the sun set painting the sky with spectacular colours, a day his perfect little heart made its final beat.
Our son was just like the sun, making his imprint on the world that day. Anticipated with so much excitement yet here and gone so swiftly. A magical, wonderful miracle. A beautiful mark on the world that will never occur again, but such an existence that can never be denied.
So much darkness came after that sunset and the light has never been as bright again. 12 months feels like one giant dark night, where we’ve stumbled blindly trying to search for the sunrise. We’re guided by the light of the stars and warmth of the moon, but that sunrise… it’s not here yet.
I think of how this time last year he was safely inside. This time last year we still held hope that things would be ok despite the likely outcome given to us. They thought he’d be born that night but he clung on fighting as we kept fighting for him. If I close my eyes I can still feel him move and kick. I can smell the hospital and remember how we kept saying to him how much we love him and that things will be ok. This was the last day we had before our world wasn’t just flipped upside down but completely smashed apart. We’ve been working so hard for 12 months to glue these pieces back together but now on the eve of anniversary of that special, beautiful, heart breaking tragic day it feels like a hammer has smashed it all over again.
Right now we won’t even attempt to try put ourselves together. Right now we’ll sit in the broken shards of our life. Tomorrow we’ll try to celebrate his life and birth. And the next day.. we’ll start the painstaking process we’ve just survived 12 months of all over again.
Will it be easier the second year?Who knows but we are so grateful for those who have been there and we know will be there to help get us through it regardless.
(This is his sunset over his beach taken on the day he was born by my sister, who I’m not sure we would have made it through in the way we have without her.)