Ends and Beginnings (Part 2)

December 31st. The end of the year. We have about 4 hours to go here in my time zone before this year is quits. This is the quietest New Years we have ever spent. Even last year when I was almost 8 weeks pregnant (and tired...and nauseous), we hung out with friends of ours who were due to deliver their baby in February (They did. She lived.) We spent the evening not drinking, taking photos of ourselves with the new DSLR, playing band hero, and watching the ball drop.

This year, it is just my husband, myself and the cat.

And the ashes of our dead son. Can’t forget about those.

I feel the best line to sum up this year is: “It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. Mostly the worst”. Because it was. 2010 held so much fear, grief, sadness and disappointment. I cried more often than I can remember. I often wonder if you gathered together all the tears we cried this year, could you carry them around in a cup? In a bowl? How many were there? Could they water a plant? Could they make up cloud?

But, as this year draws to a close, I don’t want to focus on the worst moments. I spent much of the year, and many of these postings doing that. No, for my last post of the year, I want to focus on the good, shining moments of 2010...because they define the year as much as the worst ones do.

In 2010...

I saw my baby kick, squirm and suck his thumb on the ultrasound.
I watched my husband get excited about, and fall in love with that little being.
I named that child the boy’s name we had been dreaming about and planning on for years.
I felt my baby kick.
I fought hard to keep him alive (mostly by lying around and doing nothing).
I birthed him. It hurt, but I survived and I would do it again.

I loved him.
It did not matter that he was about to die. He was mine. Ours.

He was perfect.

2010 contained my Aidan. And 2011 will not.

In 2010 I experienced love for my child and it was as big and as strong, and as overwhelming, and as profound as I ever thought it would be. And I loved that about this year. The tears I cried, every single one, was only because I love him, and miss him and wish that Aidan would exist in 2011, and 2012, and 2013...and on and on. I do not want to leave him behind in 2010.

That is the sad part. As much as I am hoping I get to parent a living child this year, watch him or her grow, and live and breathe and be...

I wish I could take Aidan with me into the new year too.

Instead, no matter where I go, or what I do, no matter what the coming year brings...

I carry his heart. I carry it in my heart.

I love you my boy. I miss you.

This year belongs to you.

Is any part of you sad to leave behind 2010? What are your hopes for 2011?