I would breathe your smell in so deep.
Knowing full well the memories of you would fade and hoping just maybe the scent of you would stay with me.
If I could touch you one more time,
I would hold your hands against mine. Memorizing each little wrinkle and crease. Feeling your skin against mine hoping just maybe the feel of your skin would remain with me.
If I could see you one more time.
I would stare into your eyes. Not caring if they were grey or blue. Just knowing that I was looking into the eyes of an angel. I would stare so hard, that just maybe you would see me.
If I could be near you one more time. If space and time and this Earthly life didn't separate us. If God and I hadn't had such different plans for you. If you had been whole and you had taken a breath.
If I could be near you just one more time, I'd let your daddy hold you tight. I would take in each moment and know it wasn't just you and me.
Connor,
It's been 8 years since we went to the hospital.
8 years since we saw your heartbeat on the crappy ultrasound machine they brought in.
8 years since you and God worked your own miracles in your timing and delivery.
8 years since you made me the mommy of a son.
I miss you everyday. I am thankful for my time with you, each hiccup, kick and craving. The moments I was able to hold you and the memories I have of you. As time moves on the memories fade. Your blanket has lost its smell. My heart has healed a little. Eight years ago seems like a lifetime. I love you and miss you so incredibly much. More than I could ever say. I am proud to be your mama.
