I have two children
Today marks 2.5 years since Zade passed away, and I miss him all the time.
I think about him constantly. He has a piece of my heart and always will.
In January, we welcomed our daughter, Nora, into this world. I believe with all my heart that she was hand-picked by her big brother, a gift from him to us. I’m incredibly blessed to have two children.
Yet, alongside the joy of Nora’s arrival comes the painful realization that she wouldn’t be here if Zade was. I think about this a lot, I mourn the fact that my two children couldn’t be earthside together. It breaks my heart.
It’s been 2.5 years since Zade left this world, yet the ache in my heart remains as raw as ever. Nora brings immeasurable joy into our lives, she’s truly a light in our lives. As I watch Nora grow, each milestone she reaches, it fills me with both joy and sorrow. In her smile, her coos, her laugh, I can’t help but wonder about the what-ifs, about the life we could have had with Zade by our side. What it would have been like to see his smile, to hear his laugh, to be able to cuddle with his warm body. It’s so difficult. Zade was our first, and it was possible to not allow myself to deeply wonder about what we were missing out on, because we didn’t truly know what it was like to raise a child. To look your child in their eyes and promise to protect them no matter what. But now, I can’t help but dream deeply of what life would have been like with him in my arms. I’m painfully aware of all the moments, all the milestones he’ll never experience.
It's been 2.5years and yet it feels like no time has passed.
I was recently at a funeral, an incredibly heartbreaking story of a soul gone too soon. And as I reflected, I began to question if we should have had a funeral for Zade. But how do you mourn someone you never truly knew? How do you celebrate a life that never had the chance to blossom? It’s such a depressing thought, realizing I have no stories to share, no memories to cherish beyond those from my pregnancy.
To cope, I hold on tight to memories from my pregnancy. From the foods I craved to the music that he danced along to in my belly. The color orange, a color I was drawn to during those precious months, still resonates deeply with me. I hold onto these small fragments of a life that might have been. It’s all I have.
For a while now, I’ve been taking walks through a cemetery where I feel closest to Zade. Now, I take his sister on our family walks. I love taking her there. For years to come, I hope to show her ways like this that she can also connect with him. There is just a presence in that place that I can feel in my heart, comforting me in my grief.
As I continue through my grief journey, I keep hoping it’ll get better. But this grief, it’s a lifelong journey. There is so much pain associated with it, but there is even more love. A love that transcends loss. I’ll hold on to this love as I continue to honor Zade’s memory, and as I continue to watch Nora grow.
“There is magic in the struggle”
~ Coco
