April 5, 2016 is a day that forever changed my life. It’s the day my son, Jensen, was born.

I never thought I could love one person as deeply as I love him. He’s touched my heart and life in ways I can’t even explain. In a way not even death could steal.

There are days I replay all the songs I would listen to when I was pregnant with him. I can recall how his movements felt in my belly, how I felt at every ultrasound when I saw him, and the feeling of the newly washed clothes I packed for him in the hospital bag.

I have a terrible memory, but I can remember so much of his life.

With all those memories, I still have so many more questions. There’s seven year of memories I’ve missed out on with a lifetime of them to go.

At seven, what would he be into? How would his looks change? Would he think I was weird yet?

Even though I only got to see him as a baby, I still picture what he’d look like at every age. I still think he’d have curly hair and I go between seeing green or brown eyes. For some reason, I think he’d be quiet, until you got to know him and then you’d have your ear talked off.

I wish I could hear about all his likes and dislikes. I wish I knew what his favorite meal was. I wish I could watch his favorite movie with him. I wish I could know what his favorite school special was. I wish I could hear his annoyed voice. I wish I could soak up every moment of Jensen.

I will never think that losing him was the right thing or what was supposed to happen. My son died and it completely changed me and every thing around me. If I could bring him back right now, I would.

It’s a little odd that seven years has came and went so quickly. When you have kids, that’s sort of how life change. Time goes by because you focus on them. What they don’t tell you is if your child dies, time goes both excruciatingly fast and slow at the same time.

How can that be?

In the first two years after, I hated time, but I counted it so very closely. Every Tuesday hurt, every 5th of a new month stabbed me, and the holidays were unbearable. I wanted that pain though.

Now, time goes so fast and we’re so busy that I felt guilt. Guilt that I’ve learned how to bury my pain when I need. Hurt when I don’t take make moment of my life the most it could be because he couldn’t. Shock when I realize it’s been so long since I’ve felt him.

The grief and pain of my son dying is something I could never prepare for — but I will say the amount of love and the way I look at life now is so different.

Seven years ago, I became a mom in a way I never would have imagined.

Seven years ago, I was wheeled out of the labor and delivery floor without my baby.

Seven years ago, I felt the world around me fall and a dark, different one rise around me.

Seven years ago broke me.

Seven years ago my son was born.

Seven years ago, I felt all the love a mother could feel for their child.

Seven years ago, I became a mom to my favorite little boy that’s ever existed.

Seven years ago felt like the end, but I promised my boy we would love and live this time we had fully.

Even though we only had a short time together, I have a lifetime of remembering him and letting his light shine so bright.

On every April 5 (and every day), I get to celebrate my son on the day he was born.

Happy birthday in heaven, Jensen.
I will miss and love you for all my life.
Thanks for letting me be your mom.


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