It doesn't seem right. It never will. This feeling will never go away and I don't know how to live with it. Read: I don't know how to live without you. There are times when I still can't believe you're gone. I have feared that it will some day seem like you never happened, but on the contrary, you seem to come more alive. I never "knew" you were a boy while you were in my tummy, but I look back on those last few weeks when you were kicking me so hard and so often and I knew it was you. You. Chase Allen. With the other three it always took a few days for the name to stick. But yours stuck immediately. As soon as our family vote tallied the name, "Chase" for you, it fit. It was perfect. It was who you were and I so love that name.
I picture you standing on my knees, holding my thumbs tight, your head a little wobbly, smiling big smiles, trying to keep an eye on your siblings rushing by us. The weekly babycenter emails I get help me picture exactly how you are changing. I hate these emails, but I can never delete them without reading about how you are growing and changing first.
I visited a local cemetery Sunday because I wanted to see a baby's grave...I had never seen one in person before. I am trying to pick out a head stone for you even though you are buried too far away for me to come see it very often. Oddly enough, of the handful of graves I did find, one of them was another little Chase. I thought of you and I cried. I cried when I saw all the little toys that were left on the baby's graves. I cried because I, too, will do that for you. Some day.
My church has a prayer garden and a plate with your name has been added on the wall. I am so honored to see it there, but it hurts. I am grateful for all these connections because it is all I have. I don't have you but I have referrences to you. Reminders. Some of them are comforting, but many are still so disturbing...
I miss you so, so much sweet Chase. Always have and always will.