A Year Ago Today

May 26, 2015

I was running late but it was appointment day. I always took a bump picture on appointment day. This was my last one to take and it occurred on the day that changed me forever.

A year ago today I woke up like any morning.
A year ago today was the last time I knew unafflicted happiness.
A year ago today I found out that he was gone.

Throughout the month of May, I've had some really great days. I've also been struck with deep, painful emotion that has put me right back in that place. Did you know that there is a Bereaved Mother's Day? I didn't. Until this year. Because now I am one. Hudson Month (May) kicked off with Bereaved Mother's Day on May 1. That was followed 7 days later by Mother's Day. Then two weeks of fighting anxiety to reach this week. The week of the biggest first year milestones and all things Hudson.

I haven't slept well the last few weeks thinking about how a year ago I was blissfully unaware of what was to come. Thinking about the before life and what we were doing in the days and weeks leading up to everything falling apart. Thinking about the way our lives have changed, our relationships with others have changed, how we have changed. Mostly, thinking about that little boy and that an entire year of him, with us as a little family, is gone. Instead, I pack in my suitcase the remains we have because it's all I have of my child and before we go, we visit a plaque with his precious name on it. I kiss my hand and place it on the letters of his name. I don't get to hug him, hold him, or look into his eyes to tell him how much I love him. I have stone and ashes.

This morning we board a plane. We escape the haunting reality that it's been one year. Today we go somewhere new and get away from everything. We will be busy if we need it and then have a chance for calm and peace if we want it. On the one hand I'm grateful because it's needed. I love any opportunity for any reason to getaway with my husband, he is my favorite person to see and experience all things with. This past year especially, travel has provided an escape from the day to day that should look different had he been here. On the other hand, I would lock myself in Hudson's room and cry if I could. All day long. All weekend long, surrounded by his things. There is a huge part of me that would find happiness in being able to be that sad because that's where I feel the closest to him sometimes, and that closeness is cathartic. That is the darkness of my grief talking. Though it came with time, I have learned now where to find him in my heart when I'm happy and to let him be my joy, but unless you know grief, you don't understand this. Sometimes you just can't stay in the "happy" and you don't want to find the lost one in the joy. You need to feel the weight and pain of the loss. I don't know how else to explain it.

A year ago today our life was forever altered, it is when our after life started. We became bereaved parents as we learned our child was dead and we were waiting to deliver him knowing it would be to say goodbye. It was the beginning of the heartbreak. Just when we thought we couldn't break any more, a million new pieces would shatter. We've spent a year trying to rebuild and put all the pieces back together. We've now reached the most dreaded milestones that occur and they will happen back to back to back. Today is the day we learned Hudson was gone. Tomorrow is the day we met him and said goodbye. Monday is the day we held his funeral. These are the milestone memories I have with and of my child. These anniversaries make up the last weekend of May, coincidentally, Memorial Day Weekend. The memory of my child who never got to be will always encompass this timeframe.

One of my loss mom's told me that once she reached that one year mark, she felt like she was a survivor. Survival, that's what this year has been. From a year ago today starting at about 10:15 to now. I have survived it. My husband has survived it. We have survived together.