As this month sneaks up on me, with the 30th March approaching fast. my mind turns to the little boy missing in our chaotic lives. My mind knows that this time 3 years ago I was in hospital, pregnant, desperately hoping for a good outcome. I don’t need to calculate the dates for my mind to know this, I just get a feeling, that ache that is always there, but it gets stronger, it takes over my whole body. It reminds me of those feelings, that hurt, that fear, that desperation.
The intense missing of little Gideon.
These next couple of months are always hard for me. I want to celebrate him, remember him – every single cell of his tiny body. Every moment we spent together. But I ache for him, the loss of my little angel, the boy that had everything stacked against him, but still fought like a warrior.
I spend most of the year telling myself to try and find peace with everything that happened, and then I approach this date, and a frenzy of emotions overwhelms me. I want to do everything, I want to celebrate him in a thousand ways and remember him in every moment of our lives. I miss him, I long for him. I ache to hold him in my arms again.
I look at my little earth boy – Benedict, my wonderful, ever-spirited rainbow, running around the house squeaking hyperactively, and I see the shadow of what could have been – should have been. The older brother hyper alongside him, causing chaos and making mummy exhausted. I sometimes see Gideon in him still, even though Benedict is so much bigger now. I can’t even begin to imagine just how small my Gideon was. When Benedict holds little Giddy bear, and I remember that Giddy bear was as big as Gideon, I can’t fathom it.
To me. My Gideon…was as tall as mountains. And just as strong.
And even in the hardest day, the longest day, the most spirited, determined of toddler days. There are always moments of wonder and beauty and not a day passes where I don’t think of him and thank him for that, even if the thought is in passing. I think of him, I acknowledge him, he is as much a part of my daily thought processes as getting out of bed, eating, changing nappies…breathing.
Yes, especially breathing, because even when I’m not consciously thinking of him, consciously remembering, even when I’m too caught up in the daily chaos of life to stop and think, I am still remembering.
He is ingrained in my heart.