Courageous

This post isn't a letter to Hunter. Just my thoughts, my emotions, my hurt. Over the weekend Mathew and I started the first of many days of packing as we get ready to move into our new home. With this comes a lot of very mixed emotions. Although I don't particularly enjoy where we are living it holds a huge significance to us. This was Hunters home. This is where we lived during the best days and the darkest days. All of them are memories of Hunter. We will loose so many things when we move. The place where we laid him on the floor to take his picture with his Daddy and his brother. The only bath we gave him was here. The two nights he spent with us at home as a family of four. The time after Mathew and I had bathed both the boys and they were both crying over getting into theor PJ's, looking at eachother and laughing before taking one boy each to start the bed time routine. I was so incredibly and unbelievably happy in that moment. There is the little things. Getting set up for Hunters arrival, stressing over which cot would go in which room. Choosing to move Cooper into the smaller bedroom as Hunter would have more things to start with. I washed the clothes, sterilised the bottles. Now that we are moving we will be in a house that will not have been his home. He is always with us, I keep telling him our address judt in case, but he would never have been physically with us. That is quite hard. While clearing out the cupboard under the stairs I found numerous items that I had stowed away under there when things got too hard. Things I had forgotten about. I thought I threw out all of the sympathy cards we accumulated. I thought I got rid of them along with the dozens of bunches of flowers that kept on coming and kept on dying in our house. The last thing I needed was something else dying (I'd never send someone flowers who has lost someone they love now), anyway, I thought I threw all those cards out. I didn't. I put them in a bag and burried them in the cupboard. When I found them on Monday evening I couldn't help but read them. I didn't get through them all. It was torture to read. We're not supossed to have cards like that, not for our baby. But we do. We have a lot of them. There is one card that I remember not reading, I knew who it was from, I read the first line but at the time I did not read it. I also remember trying again days later to read this card. I still couldn't read it. When I picked up that card a couple of days ago I opened it. I couldn't read it. I don't know why I can't do it. Maybe it seems impersonal and scripted from that first line, maybe its the sender, maybe it's too long and drawing out what can be said very simply. I don't know, but nearly 9 months down the track I still cannot read that one card. I cried and cried over the pile of cards. I cried over all the gifts I was given to provide some comfort. I cried over the cotton tip and piece of cloth I still have that I used to wipe Hunters eyes and clear the dribble from his mouth. The tube of lip balm we had for him to keep his lips from drying and his eyes from sticking. I cried over the poem and speech Mathew and I spent hours writing the night before his funeral. The last few days I have been feeling a sense of disbelief. I still find it hard to believe that my baby is gone. That he is in a place I am not. That I can't see him. I just don't understand why this had to happen to us. Why it couldn't happen to anyone else. I wish it was not my grief and that it was someone elses I write about. Today I can't believe this is my life. We are having another little boy soon. We have named him and we use his name. Each time I go to say his name Hunters comes out first. That hurts me every time. It bites at my heart and causes me to question why it keeps happening. I love the baby boy growing in my tummy just as much as my other boys yet my head won't let me acknowledge him by name. I say his name in my head, I say it out loud but when I go to talk about him without thinking Hunter comes out. There is such a big hole, a canyon in my heart and life. I carry the feeling of dread with me throughout my days. I feel hollow. A shell compared to how I once saw myself. I still don't know who this person is. I don't only act and feel different but I look startingly different. Every now and again I shock myself when I catch my reflection unexpectantly. I don't recognise this person. People used to tell me that my eyes sparkled when I smiled. They don't sparkle now. If eyes are the windows to the soul mine would surely be dull and without much colour. I have thought many times that people, strangers, must be able to see the grief and hurt that I hold in my eyes. Surely they can see that my smile is flawed. Speaking of eyes, maybe mine wouldn't be all dark. Recently I have noticed that my eyes are no longer brown but a light green. My eyes used to go this colour after I had been crying. Perhaps I've cried so many tears they're not going back. Perhaps the new colour and lightness in my eyes is because of the hope I hold for the joy our Rainbow will bring. My smiles for Cooper are genuine. He brings so much love and unlimited happiness into my life. Everyday he gives me another reason to love him. Is it selfish of me to want more? To want that with Hunter too. Seeing Cooper learn and grow is such an amazing journey to be such a big part of. We are blessed enough to be given another chance with Rainbow but on the same note we are missing that for a whole person. All of our lives we will continue wonder and dres 'what if'. If one good thing has come of loosing Hunter it is definitely that I am a better Mother. I was never a bad mother but now I know I am an amazing Mum. One day my kids will read this blog and feel my hurt and anguish but they will also realise the courage it takes to continue to be a mother. I don't just exist as their Mum but I do my very best, I live each day with them, I am patient, I make sure their every need is put before my own. I love them with everything I am, I teach them, kiss them, hold them, encourage them. To be a Mum and Dad again after loosing a child takes courage. We have courage and for that I am proud. There is an ancient word that represents power, strength and courage. We have chosen this word as the name of our third son. Thank you Hunter for teaching me I am a good parent and for giving me the strength and courage to carry on being a mother and parnter. I love you.