Wednesday, 26 February 2014

The day before

I am sitting at my computer, crying, listening to "Let It Be" by the Beatles, and replying to emails about Alexander.  Theodore is near by, playing with his stuffed Pooh bear, and emptying the plush toy basket over and over again.  He bumps his head gently against the side of the desk over and over as he reaches for his things that have travelled slightly out of his reach.  Bump bump.  I reach down an touch his head, feel his soft hair, and cry and smile as he looks up.  He smiles back.  He is tired.  He didn't sleep well last night.  He is extra clumsy as he's pushing his 5th hour of being awake today.  I was going to come to this place while he napped.  But alas, bump bump, he plays at my feet as I go through tissues full of tears and snot. 

I so wish he was born on time, and somehow I was juggling 2 boys under 2.  Life would have been crazy and probably impossible if Theodore was this kind of baby even with a big brother toddler present - but I would do it all without question to have Alexander here. 

I ache to say his name throughout the house.  It's big things - like his life - that I miss.  But it's the little things too.  I wonder what he would have been like as an almost 2 year old. 
"'re almost 2!  Happy almost second birthday!!" I would say.
"Alexander..."  I would say.  ... "Alexander..." I would be saying so much more.  I want to say it these days.  And not just to hear his name... but to say it to the boy ... the boy who would be busy, walking, talking, singing, dancing, fussing, fitting, tantrum-ing, and all things 2.

Shine until tomorrow... Let it be
There will be an answer... Let it be
"Alexander.."  I would say...


  1. Yeah, I've been thinking a lot about you today. Sometimes it's the day (days, weeks) before that are hardest-- because we retrace our steps just years ago and think of where we were and how all was still normal and we were still whole. How the pieces of our soul were not ripped out YET.

    I hate the anticipation, but I hate knowing you are missing him even more. Just, why does this have to be reality?

  2. I have been thinking so much of you all week. I'm glad you're having a good cry. Maybe that sounds weird, but man, did I need one in the week before her birthday and it never happened and I was full of rage on her actual day and I wonder if I'd just sat down and cried my eyes out...I hope it leaves you feeling ever so slightly more peaceful tomorrow, though I know there is nothing that really makes any of this any better, any more able to accept or live with...I am sending a huge, huge hug your way and I will be remembering your sweet little Alexander. I'm going to buy daffodils on my way home from work today and they will be for him and for Anja.

  3. I have been thinking of you so much today, I want this wretched month to end for both our sakes. I miss saying her name too. I miss being able to call myself her Mum. Let it be seems appropriate the day before THAT day. Breathing and grieving with you.

  4. You have been on my mind all this week. I know so well the ache of wanting to say their names out loud. I'm so sorry. Missing Alexander with you.

  5. <3 I wish he had been born on time, too.

    I wish he were here, with his little brother playing on the floor.

    I wish so many thing for him and for you. For your family.

    I hope the anticipation is worse than the day. <3

  6. Like all these gals, I've just had you all on my heart so much this week. Thoughts of what this week should be like, wishing you were getting ready for little A's second birthday party.

    And having a two year old and knowing how fun and amazing they are, it just makes me so angry for you (and me, and all of us) that we don't get that with our little loves.