Today was a good day, although tears have come and gone in waves. The hubby and I decided to spend the beautiful afternoon at "Kaden's Beach." This beach has such a special meaning to us. It has been a place where we go together, just the two of us. It holds many memories. We find so much love, happiness, and peace there...exactly what we needed today.
As we sat on the beach, I asked for a sign that everything was going to be okay for our future children. A message in the clouds, a rainbow, something. Then out of nowhere two dolphins appeared right in front of the beach. Not just two adult dolphins, a mother and its baby. They stayed for a quite awhile as we sat watching in awe. This was my sign. A message from above, at least that is how I interpreted this magical moment.
The day is now winding down and the reality is sinking in. My son is gone. He is not coming back. I will never hold him, kiss him, or rock him in my arms again. This day, his due date, solidifies the end. This truth is painful. Yet, when I picture him in heaven, I imagine him wearing an angelic white onesie with a brand new pair of white wings and a tiny halo. His eyes open with a smile on his face. Happily playing with all his little friends. I know he is in good hands and that he is happy. I also know that he would not want his mommy to be sad with such inner turmoil. I promise my baby boy that I will move forward the best that I can. To find inner peace and happiness once more. I have such wonderful support all around me from my loving husband, family, friends, and the beautiful mommies who share my heartbreak. I feel so blessed.
I have such high hopes for the future, yet the thought of losing another baby strikes fear inside me at the same time. I will continue to remain optimistic. I will not let this fear prevent me from having a family. From reaching my dream, My strength will not let fear win. I really do look forward to telling Kaden's future brothers and sisters about their older brother. I will continue to think of my baby boy everyday for the rest of my life...all happy loving thoughts, cherishing the brief but unforgettable time I had with my little man.
Beautiful post, Nicole. It feels almost impossible as you begin to accept that your baby is really gone. The pain is never gone completely, but it gets a tiny bit easier.
ReplyDeleteYour sign sounds beautiful. The morning of Aiden's funeral, Kevin and I went to the beach and saw a large family of dolphins playing in the waves. We imagined it was a sign from Aiden that he was okay. xo