1 Year Birthday

A year ago today my head was reeling.  Spinning out of control as I tried to grasp the gravity of the situation.  My wife had gone into preterm labor and my son was born at 28 weeks 5 days gestation.  The words of the Neonatologist ran through my head about my son doing very well for his size and weight.  From the beginning the prognosis was good.  I could not believe what had just happened.  A complete opposite birth story than the one we had meticulously planned for our first child.  His birth was suppose to happen at home, around Christmas, with a midwife in attendance.  Instead it was hectic, a couple days before Halloween, and a plethora of doctors and nurses.  I had no time to digest that my son was going to need intensive assistance for a long time and my wife just had major surgery.  Through all this time I had no idea what really lay in store...Death. 

This day a year ago his 1 year birthday was far from my mind.  Although I had little doubt that we would be celebrating with him in 1 year and remarking how far he has come that year.  I kept telling Marcellus that I hope that his time in the NICU would be the hardest time in his life and he would have no memory of that.  I was right, but not in the way I wanted to be.  A year ago I had no idea I would have to host a 1 year birthday for my dead baby. 

1 year birthdays are a huge milestone.  I have said it before that just like the 3, 6, and 9 month birthdays they are a bragging right saying "look, I did it, I kept this baby alive for this long!"  But what about when you have not succeeded in doing this.  Marcellus died before his 1 month birthday which means I got plenty of practice in having mixed emotions on the 28th of each month.  On one hand I tried to celebrate the 12 days he was actually alive while over whelming sadness that he was not here loomed over me.   Over the past few months the 28th (and the 9th) have just went by with little fanfare.  I did not want to celebrate his 10 or 11th month birthday, I just wanted to get through the day.  So when his 1 year approached, I was quite unprepared.   How do I celebrate a baby who is not here?  But we did it, we started out by going to his tree and having a balloon release.  Then we read him his story and showed everyone his maple tree.  We came back to the house and had brunch and just visited with close friends of ours and his.  It was a  good birthday party.  We sang happy birthday to him, although it felt weird to sing happy birthday to someone who is not here, no one knew where to look. 

I had hoped that I would find peace by his 1 year birthday.  For some reason I thought that peace was my ultimate goal in grief.  Peace in his death, not accepting, but the ability to say 'he is dead and there is nothing I can do about it.'  Of course I have not found peace, I hate that he is gone and it still makes me angry.  My grief is solitude now, what little I can get.  I have been internalizing it intensely.  I think that is ok.  I still grieve, lately quite often, but I do it in private.  There is nothing I can say to my wife that she already has not heard.  I do not need to, she already knows what I am feeling.  I do not feel confiding in other people because I do not want to hear advice or any type of consolation. I know I have some very special people who will listen to me and just let me speak what I need to, and they understand what I am going through.  I am thankful for that.  I just need to figure out my own head I think.  Really I want to speak to someone who cannot speak back.  So I have been confiding in Marcellus quite often. I speak to him now, much more than I have before (the dog also gets an earful).  I am scared of my life sometimes.  I am scared of what it has become.  I am scared of the uncertainty of what is to come.  So many things mean little to me and so few things mean so much. 

It will take me years to find any sense of peace, I will not get over this anytime soon.  Nor do I want to.  I want to grieve, I want to cry, I want the urge to break things, I want to crumple into a ball in my bed and just lay there paralyzed with grief like the other night.  I want to think about him mindlessly as I run down the path.  I want to tell people about him without them having that damned fucking reaction.  Most of all I want my son back.  Can I have him back for his birthday?  Please?  If only for a couple minutes so I could hold him and hug him and tell him over and over that I love him like I did when he was dying?  So I could say all the things I did not have time to say during those awful minutes before he died?  Marcellus I had so much I wanted to say to you, the only thing I could say was 'I love you.'  I love you so much Marcellus, I love and miss you so damned much.   You mean so much to me even after being gone for so long.  Marcellus I will always miss you.  I will miss you for every second of my life.  I wish I had one more chance to kiss you on your forehead and stroke your beautiful hair.  The only thing I ever want for my birthday ever again is to hold you one more time.