3 years gone...

The 13th of October was the 3rd anniversary Mason's death.  It wasn't anything like you would imagine.  It was perfectly fine...I think I only cried once.  Which is actually pretty good considering I still cry at least once a week about him.  I feel as though I have had to become so callous in order to make it through these days (his birthday, death anniversary and Infant Loss Remembrance day, Christmas, Easter, Halloween, the day I found out I was pregnant).  It's not like I can lay in bed and cry all day on every difficult day with a maniacal toddler running around the house... believe me I have tried.  It just doesn't work well.

So I suppress my feelings because it makes getting through life a little more bearable...

But then you end up crying at the most random times... Like while you are behind a curtain in a shopping mall dressing room and you are suddenly hit with deja vu of the time you sat behind a curtain while your precious son was being worked on by group of big hearted nurses and doctors.   Watching feet scurry behind the curtain, hearing unfamiliar beeps and having no idea what any of it meant.  Being brought back to the moments before he died.  Remembering the waiting 5 horrific minutes as Jonathan drove the hospital (it seemed like 6 years).  Calling out to God over and over again on my hands and knees as the staples from my new c-section wound ripped at my body. Being moved to the chapel because I was probably making a lot of the other NICU parents horribly uncomfortable.  Receiving the news that he was gone.  Holding him and rocking him and praying over him one last time.  All of these memories hitting me at shopping mall dressing room... mind you not on any special anniversary day...with my toddler in tow and having no other option but to push everything inside and press on.

I wish I could be better at timing these moments.  It would be so much easier to get it all out when I'm supposed to... but alas it just happens out of the blue and boy do those moments just take you back and knock you off your feet.