Here we are, once again.
So much I wish I could say. The problem now is merely time; Vivienne - my lovely, funny, squirmy, flying-squirrel of a delightfully intense and sometimes terribly fussy and wonderfully, sadly independent living (so amazingly, stunningly alive) baby - takes up so much of it.
As it should be.
And yet -
Yet.
Her brother is not forgotten, or less loved, or less missed. Gabriel is still gone and his absence is still harrowing and hurtful, unfair and unforgiving.
The dichotomy in which I existed after his death has not changed, merely shifted. I am still and stuck and yet move forward every day. I am sad and despairing and filled with joy.
Vivienne didn't replace Gabriel, but she did heal some of the hurt, fill some of the gaping wounds.
Life, as ever, moves on.
But today, I can take a moment, here and now, to reflect and remember my son. My beautiful, tiny, fragile little boy.
And so many, many others (my own lost pregnancies included).
Not forgotten. All missed. All loved.
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