You would think my life would be full of happiness now that I finally got my rainbow. You would be right, in a way. But, the 9th marked three years since we lost our first. Three long rollercoaster years. I couldn’t help but wonder, like I always do, what he would have been like. How would, what I imagine to be a cantankerous 2 year old, react to a baby brother? My cup would surely be running over. I wonder if he would be red headed like his brother or would be be brunette like his parents? I wonder if he would look like me or his daddy? I wonder if he would be quiet, yet stubborn, or loud and boistrous. Mostly, all I do is wonder. Would be be a good big brother? Would he be jealous? Would I be able to survive having two kids?
My thoughts have been circling these questions as the day I will never forget retreats again. The grief is still there and a couple of tears have been shed. The thing that is most amazing, Superman seems to know. Maybe his brother tells him, maybe not. I don’t know, but when I’m quietly crying, Superman looks at me so seriously, holding me with his gaze. Like he is trying to convey something deep and heartfelt.
In the quiet moments, that is where I know all my children are. They know they are loved. They love me. They watch their baby brother. They are happy and proud and, perhaps secretly amused, that he gives me hell. I still struggle with missing them and the lives and memories were could have shared. I’m their mom, my love is never ending. I will always miss what should have been, yet, I have found a measure of peace. Peace in the quiet moments when I look at Superman’s sweet face. I see his siblings there and my heart, for a fleeting moment, soars.