As I look at all of the back-to-school photos on my Facebook timeline, I realize that if things were different, I could have two kids going to preschool for the first of two years. How is that possible? How is it possible that my boys would have been THREE in just a few short days? How have I made it through the past three years? I can't even figure it out...
I don't know how I even was able to breathe for that first year. Perhaps it was the idea that another baby could come along, that maybe I could be a mom. But really, I think it was this blog. And though I'm not great about keeping up with it...I keep coming back to it. Because this is my therapy. B keeps me busy now, but it doesn't keep me from thinking about his brothers.
We read this book called Baby Angels and we look at the pictures of the baby's with wings in the book and point to the two that look the most like Sammy and Andy and we talk about them. I know B doesn't understand yet, but that doesn't mean he's not listening. He's so special and I need him to know that. But I also need him to know that his big brothers are special, too.
Without them, Ben wouldn't be here. I've been saying a lot lately that I am who I am, I am a stronger person, a healthier person, an all around better person because my boys both lived and died. I am lucky to be their mom. I am lucky that they chose me. I am lucky that this life chose me. Because I am meant for bigger things and this was all my lesson to get me there. I know there are even more great things coming and they will be here before I know it. In the meantime, I am celebrating three years.
I am celebrating surviving. I am celebrating that my boys lived. I am celebrating that they taught me about unconditional love and life. I am celebrating my babies.
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