It was on 15 December 2018, at 11:55am, a Saturday, when my world turned upside down. My life changed drastically and part of me died the moment my son was born without a heartbeat.
I’m at this point where I find myself at a standstill. My heart breaks on the fact that the days that I lost him now outnumbered the days that I had with him. This emotion is then doubled on the fact that the 15th of this month is the very first one of the year to fall on a Saturday.
I carried my son for 6 months, and those 6 months with him were the best times I ever had. He was my first child, my answered prayer. He put an end to my endless worries of “am I capable of carrying a child?” and “what if having PCOS hinders my chance of getting pregnant?” and so on. He was my blessing. My husband and I’s bundle of joy.
6 months with him, and now 6 months on without him.
The first thought that comes up to my mind when I wake up every morning is, “I should be waking up to a sleeping/crying/smiling/farting/staring-at-his-momma baby right now”, but instead, I wake up to a silent forlorn morning.
Unlike the first few months in this journey, I don’t find myself crying that much anymore. But there are still days that I find myself back to square one. I cry for the future that my husband and I lost. I cry for my son.
Looking back I didn’t know how I navigated through life, how I survived the most awful thing that any one could ever face. I am trying my best to keep myself busy so that my Kaeden would be proud. But days like today definitely make me stop on my track and think back on everything that had happened. My heart breaks for the baby boy that had given me so much joy in a short span of time.
I will forever love you Kaeden. Everywhere I am, there you’ll be. 💙