Nineteen Months. 


This is how he would have looked last year around this time. Seven months old and going into his first set of holidays. 

I won this portrait from For A Moment Portrait last year during Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. When I won it, I was so excited because I never win anything and everyday when I woke up I pictured what he would look like. I still wonder what he’d look like since. 

She sent me Jensen age progressed to six/seven-ish months right before his birthday. I remembered being terrified to see what how it turned out. What if it wasn’t the way I had pictured him? Or what if my reaction was bad? It was the same feeling I had when Jensen bear arrived home. I built up the courage and carefully took it out of the envelope. My eyes were closed before I turned it over and saw him. No matter what it ended up looking like, I always had my image of him. So, I took the plunge. 

It was him. 

He had the curly hair inpictured and looked more like my mom than I had imagined, but it was definitely him. His eyes were opened, which I’ve never seen before. He looked happy and that brought me peace. 

Sometimes I wish I would get an age progression drawing for every year. Just to peak my curiosity. If I was any good at drawing, I’d do it myself, but I wouldn’t give him the justice he deserves. 

I’m not sure why I decided to share this image today. 

His smiling face has been right in front of me for almost seven months now. It didn’t feel right until now to show it off. 

Maybe it’s the time of year? Heading into the second holiday season without him and all I want is to see his face and how much he’s grown. Time doesn’t heal all wounds. My heart longs for him more and more as each day passes. I hate not being able to plan which presents he’d open up or decide when he should get a picture with Santa. And I wish for the everyday things, like making sure he was warm enough to go outside or wiping off food that missed his mouth.
Time doesn’t make up for all the moment I should have had with him. It’s been nineteen months and the pain hasn’t lessened. Has it changed? Of course. But the weight in my heart is stil there. The tears still come. I’m still dreading the holidays and the year change. And in less than six months, I should have a two year old. 

Each day for the rest of my life, I know I’ll make it through. The smiling face I see in front of me now promises me that. I’ve lived the worst day of my life and I know it should be different, but I promise him and myself that I will be the best I can be. 

I’ll continue sharing his story and never letting his memory fade away. 

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