Moving

Dear Jacob,

Yesterday was our last day at the condo and I have mixed feelings about leaving. This is the place where I was pregnant with you and I have so many wonderful memories there - of lying in bed and on the couch and looking at and rubbing my belly; of standing in front of the bathroom mirror, watching my belly get bigger and bigger; of looking down at my feet in the shower one day and realizing that I couldn’t see them anymore (and of throwing up in the shower one day when the nausea was really bad...I laugh at that memory now); of taking my belly pictures in the hall; of calling everyone when I was sitting in the living room, telling them that I was pregnant and listening to their reactions (which included a few screams of happiness); of looking out the living room window in the middle of the night as I ate a few crackers because I woke up starving; of getting up three times a night to pee; of running to the bathroom halfway through dinner to throw up, with my hand over my mouth hoping I would get there in time; of feeling you kick and sitting on the couch with your Dad resting his hand on my belly, hoping that he would be able to feel it too. He never did get to.

But the condo is also the place where I have spent the darkest days of my life after I lost you. The days when I didn’t want to wake up in the morning because I knew you would be gone. The days when I woke up crying and fell asleep crying and cried all day in between. The days of feeling completely devastated and completely hopeless. Not all of those days have passed. Many have come, stayed awhile, left for awhile and come back. Many will be with me forever, or that is how it feels right now.

Today we went for the final walkthrough of our new house. The house we bought in April because of you. It has 4 bedrooms upstairs, plenty of room for you and your siblings. I had your room picked out. I imagined bringing you home from the hospital to this house. I imagined walking to your Aunty Laurie's most days to visit and so that you and Ben could play together. I imagined hanging out with your Grandma when I was on maternity leave with you. I imagined you going to the school across the road and of taking you to the nearby parks and watching you play in the splash pads.

Now the house seems so, so empty. It is big and empty. When we went back to see the house the 2nd time before putting an offer on it, your Dad was taking some pictures and I happened to be on the stairs when he took one. I looked so happy and hopeful there. I was almost 16 weeks pregnant with you and thought I was out of the woods. Little did I know the rollercoaster ride that I'd be getting on soon and that I will never be able to get off.

I am still excited about the house and I'm glad that we now live in the same city where your ashes are buried. I feel like a better Mommy now because I will be able to visit you more often. I talk to you alot and I think of you all the time, but I just like being able to go to the garden, it makes me feel like you aren't so alone. We drove by it tonight and it was so dark in there. It bothers me that it is so dark, but I know that's silly. I'm babysitting Ben on Wednesday and I want to take him to the garden for awhile. There is just something about seeing him play around the garden where you are. But I also just want to go there, sit on the bench and cry my eyes out. If I could, I'd lie over the place you are buried and sob.

I miss you so much. You will always be my sweet, sweet boy. If only I could hold you again, if only I could kiss you one more time.

I love you forever,

Mom