my journey through the loss of my first son and the life of my second

Thursday, November 22, 2012

The missing chair

For all my days holidays will sting. For the rest of my life I will miss what should be. Today is no different. I could not help today, as we all laughed at Ian when he threw pea casserole in the air or gagged on the sweet potato, think of the other blue eyed, blonde almost three year old boy that should be there with us. One more chair at our table. One more giggle to enjoy. One more boy kissing my face.

I think thanksgiving will always be the hardest. It was three years ago that I was 18 weeks pregnant with him...showing off his ultrasound pictures, feeling his first kicks, dreaming of having him with us the following year. Two years ago I could barely stand. I was a shell of a person. My heart was still so very broken. My sweet, amazing Ian was 11 weeks along in my belly. But, Trent was dead. And I had no guarantee Ian would make it.

Oh, my sweet sweet son. I miss you so very much today.

Ian brings me more joy, laughter, love, peace, and healing than any words in the world can even express...

But man that missing chair haunts me.


Terra said...


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