May is fast becoming my least favorite month of the year.
May 3rd is the day my twin boys Preston and Julian were born, and died. 2 years ago.
May 5th my son Kaden would have been 9 months old.
May is Mother’s Day. While I have a precious little girl here on earth, I’d rather skip Mother’s Day. My husband will be gone so I’ll actually get to bypass it this year.
May 26th is Kaden’s 9 month in heaven.
I hate May.
It all collides at once this coming month. All of our hopes and dreams combine into a little over 3 weeks of constant reminders. I tell myself on these days, “It’s just a date, just like any other day of the year.”
But it’s not. These days are ones when my mind finally has a reason to dwell on what if and what should instead of pushing it away or trying to accept what is. It finally gets that day to simply mourn lives that are gone forever. The facts:
- We’ll never watch my sons walk.
- I’ll never get to hold them again.
- They’ll never get to tease their sister.
- I never brought any of them home.
- We won’t ever get to see what they become in life.
- We won’t get to hear their voices. See their eye color. Watch their hair darken. Know their dislikes.
- I’ll never see my sons marry.
- I will never know if they would have given us grandchildren.
- They won’t be around as we grow old.
So on these days, my world becomes very small and close. It holds their memories and gives them a life in my mind, allows them to become chubby babies to grown men. I watch them struggle and succeed, laugh and cry. We get to be a family of 6 instead of 3.
I hate it and I love it. I wish it was over and I wish that it didn’t hurt so much to pretend “what if”.
It’s like my two worlds collide in May – fantasy and reality meet in a 24 hour period and my heart and mind finally get to have the life they grieve for.