Two Years Old

Today, we should be snuggling our two year old boy...the apple of my eye.  Today we should have a backyard full of two year old kids, playing, giggling, eating ice cream and cake.  Today, our baby should be opening presents, with eyes wide and full of excitement.  Today my little boy should have his signature gigantic smile spread across his face, knowing that today is all about him.  Today, instead, our baby is buried on the side of a hill near our house.  We will visit him there and cry and sing to him and our hearts will break all over again, for the millionth time since he left us.  And, I just don't know how to keep moving.  I am so sad and angry.  It is so unfair...not only to us, but to Max.  It is so unfair, I feel like I might stop breathing and often wish I just would already.

Today, I feel like I want to tell you MORE about Max.  I want you to KNOW who he was.  What a special and beautiful soul he was.  How much he lit up our lives.  I HATE that you don't understand our loss...and I know that's not fair...but I've learned that life isn't fair.  Not at all.  If it was, I wouldn't be writing this post.  If it was, I wouldn't have this blog.

Max smiled at everyone.  He was one of those babies that you could hand off to anyone and he'd be happy.  After he died, many people shared with me their memories of holding Max.  They told me how surprised they were that he didn't fidget or act uncomfortable at all.  Instead, he looked around curiously at his surroundings, smiling at his host.  Maxie was a real charmer.

Maxie was an easy baby, settling into a routine easily.  Even when we went on trips to Costa Rica or the East Coast - he picked up the local time without effort and got easily back into his nap and bedtime schedule.  Any parent will tell you what a dream that is.  He was easy in the car - usually falling right asleep and easy on the airplane - only having one hard flight, which was because he missed an earlier nap and because we were all stressed out, almost missing our flight.  Settling him down usually meant just reciting the words to "Goodnight Moon" in his ear or singing his bedtime song to him quietly.  One of my favorite memories of him was when I would open the backseat door and pull up the hood on his car seat.  He always looked right in my eyes and gave me a huge smile.  It was like he was happy to see me again after the car ride apart.  Max knew how to play it up for the camera.  He understood that when someone pointed a camera or a phone at him, he should smile and look extra cute. 

I strolled Maxie to and from daycare a few times a week.  I cherished these walks.  I would have the cover over his face because the sun was facing him both ways due to the time of day.  We would take the streets with the most shade so that I could lift the cover every time we passed under a tree and say "Hello!" to him.  His face would light up and he would smile directly at me, then go right back to playing with whatever toy was in his hands when I would lower the hood back down.  In the mornings, I would go into his room and turn on the light on the dim setting and his big eyes would blink while they were adjusting.  And, even though he couldn't really see me yet, he would look in my direction with the most gigantic smile.  God!  I loved that about him.  He was so so happy.  So appreciative and loving.  

Maxie was adored by his cousins, his Auntie Beth, his Uncle Paul, his Grandma Susanna and K-pa, his Gigi and Papa, his Papa Chuck and Leonie, his Auntie Lyndsey, his Prima Sharon, all of his friends at daycare and so many other people in his life.  People knew when they met him that he was special.  Girlfriends who were ready to start having babies would bring their husbands over to meet Maxie to show them how much fun a little one could be.

Maxie loved his daddy and boy, he has the best daddy!  Ted and Maxie shared the most special bond.  Whenever Maxie heard Ted's voice, he sat up straighter and looked around for his daddy.  Nothing was cuter than seeing that excitement.  I imagine how that love and admiration would have grown.  I picture the two of them watching football together, playing ball in the yard, and doing all sorts of guy stuff together.  I hate that they won't get to do these things together.  It breaks my heart.

What I can tell is you is that we feel his loss every minute of every day.  We feel it with every breath we take.  Max is in every tear for sure, but every time we laugh or smile, there is a sense that it is lifting the weight of our tragedy for just that minute.  Every time we are not talking about Max, there is a knowing that we have that he is just under the surface.  We are two different people without him.  Life will never be the same.  Something else you should know though - I wouldn't trade my nine and a half months with Maxie for a lifetime with any other kid.  He was part of our soul circle.  He was meant to be ours.  And, if we have to live with this pain and heartache for the rest of our lives, it's ok.  Our time with him was worth it because he was beyond special.  He was and is the light of our lives.  Such a perfect little boy.

Happy Second Birthday to our Maxie!  We love you to the moon and back and always will.  

Our Beloved Baby Boy Your Smile Will Shine Always