Six months

It’s been six months. I can clearly remember so many details, but it feels like such a long time ago.

With Mother’s day approaching, I’ve been seeing a lot of information about bereavement and dealing with grief, especially for moms who have lost children. It’s had me reflecting on my grief, its process, and how I’m feeling now, 6 months after Oscar’s birth and death. I read stories of all different types of grief, that don't really describe mine, and I wonder if I’m doing something wrong. But as I think, and look, and reflect on this last year, I realize that right now, I am comfortable with Oscar’s story. I don’t know if comfortable is quite the right word, but it’s the best I can come up with to encompass all the things that come to mind when I think about him.

We were so lucky to know about Oscar’s diagnosis early. His entire life, we knew who he was. That’s not to say he was his diagnosis (far from it!), but we were prepared that his life would not be “normal”, and we were able to see the gifts in every moment with him. We were able to savour my pregnancy, and create so many memories. I’ve written before about how in his short life, all our wishes for him were fulfilled. He gave us the incredible gift of a peaceful death, where he appeared comfortable and at rest. I can look back with no regrets, no what ifs. I miss my son, but I am so happy for his life and being a part of it. None of us know how long we have, and we often live with the assumption that we’ll have tomorrow, or one day. Living through a situation where each day, each minute, is precious, changes your perspective a little, and we’ll always be grateful for that gift. In his time here with us, there was so much love, joy, and growth, that it was enough. I am content, comfortable, with his story as is. He has reminded me to live my life the same way, so that I am not waiting, so that it is enough.

So yes, he is in my thoughts every day, but yes, my life continues. Yes, on mother’s day he will definitely be counted as one of my children, and there will be melancholy mixed with celebration. Yes, I will always love him, and miss him, but yes, I am content with the life that he lived, and his role in our lives. And when I think about him, he makes me happy. That's the gift Oscar will give me on mother's day, and that he gives me every day.

“Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away”