3 months ago today, also on a Friday, that laughably named ‘Good Friday’ you were born. You should be 3 months old.
I think, now, that I never expected you. I was expecting, but I never believed you would come. And you never did. I’m never going to wonder whether to send you to school or keep you here, I’m never going to see you walk among your sisters and cousins, never find out if you were going to play rugby, do gym, or dance. Whether you’d have been a late or early reader, a good sleeper or a picky eater.
You were so much part of the family, even from those first seconds. They took you away and I followed, kicking and screaming against the people who tried to keep me back. I cried a river over you and I kept coming back for more. I loved you from the first second I saw you, never mind before I saw you. I couldn’t keep away, neither of us could. You were a little magnet, no more someone we could walk away from than any of the sisters we have known for years. We sat over you and willed you on, you drew us back to you like a little magnet. We lived through so much pain in those 11 days and we couldn’t have resented you for a moment, not a second. You were born and a whole world opened up like a bubble around you and locked us in beside you. You are as much our child, 11 days notwithstanding, as any of the others. We couldn’t stay away. You were beautiful. I don’t regret a moment of those awful, wonderful 11 days. Not a moment.
If you knew us at all, I hope you know that we wanted you to be a miracle, that we sat with our hands on your head and our fingers in your hands and hoped you’d surprise us all. I wanted you to be a miracle. I don’t think you had it in you.
I wish, more than anything, that I’d been able to see a future for you. I wish you had one, I wish that our evenings and nights were filled with ordinary baby weariness, trying to get you to sleep so we could have a few moments to ourselves. Busy days make it easier to paper over your absence, being able to be busy makes the space you fill so huge.
Today was a long day, one you would not have enjoyed. We traipsed all over town for your sisters and I thought and imagined you all day as we did so. Tomorrow you had a place reserved in the head count for the dancing show. I think we’ll all feel your absence tomorrow. I know I will.