If you asked me at 10:00 on January 1st 2018 I would have told you I was positive Dexy was still alive, I would have told you that any second he would start moving again right up until the point they said that sentence.
If you asked me at 20:05 on January 5th 2018 I would have told you I was positive Dexy would cry 3 minutes later when he would be born. I would have told you that my son would not be born silent and my son would take a breath.
If you asked me at 22:00 on January 5th 2018 I would have told you I was positive I was going to die. I was convinced the next time I blinked I wouldn’t open my eyes back up and see Phil next to me and Dexy in the corner. I was convinced that as I held my mums hand and told her my pin number and bank details I would never go to an ATM again.
Over the months since Dexy died I find myself positive about many things. I find myself being more positive over bad things happening then I do thinking something good will happen. So how do I balance that out? I start thinking about how I can turn anything into something good and take the most from what I am going through.
My son died. I got to spend 36 weeks and 5 days with him before his tiny heart stopped beating. I got to spend 4 more days preparing for him to be born with him. I got to hold my belly and talk to him in them 4 days that I will remember forever. I got to give birth to him and finally get to meet him. I got to hold him and see my son. I spent 3 days with him taking photos, talking to him about his Daddy, stroking his tiny nose and giving him a lifetime of love in a short amount of time.
My son never took a breath. He breathes through me. He breathes through you. When I talk about my son or you read about him, he becomes a part of your life. When you think about all of the babies that have died they breathe through you.
My son will never grow up. But he has been to more countries than most of us will ever be too. He has been to more beaches than I could imagine. He has been to Disney land like many other children and he has friends that look out for him and care for him. I know that he will forever be a baby. But really is it the hardest part? it isn’t the growing up that he will miss out on it is knowing that people don’t see him as even existing.
Finding the balance is hard. Most of the time I do find myself numb to everything or depressed. But it’s part of this. I can’t lie and say I am always happy or always finding the strength to live because I don’t. I take it how it comes. some days good and some days brutally raw. But at the bottom of this all is a beautiful little boy. A little boy who is here, who exists and who matters. I find my strength in knowing all he ever felt was love. All he ever will feel is love. That is what keeps me going.