Friday night George, Peter, and I were in Peter’s room after bath getting ready for bed. The three of us don’t spend too much time in there together, and I was instantly reminded of being in the same room when it was June’s room with George as a baby. It was so funny because George as a little baby was doing the same things to June as he was to Peter. He was taking a pacifier and putting it in Peter’s mouth and touching Peter’s face. That’s what he did to June too. I guess their personalities do shine through at a very young age. Peter sort of humors George just like June would.

Our lives are very different right now than they once were in many ways. Recently I’ve noticed it in my appreciation for typical parenting emotions. When June was alive, I used to have a strong internal reaction when I heard people talk about how they wanted their babies to stay babies – to freeze time. I didn’t understand why people cried when their kids went off to kindergarten or high school. ‘Just be thankful they are growing and developing,’ I would think. I have a “forever baby,” and it is painful.  We are frozen, and there is nothing fun about this. I wasn’t upset with them because I knew it was a ‘normal’ emotion; I just didn’t understand it.  That wasn’t our reality.

Now that I am a parent of two healthy boys, I get it.  Some nights I lay in George’s bed before he goes to sleep and we sing as we smile and gaze into each other’s eyes, and I wish with all my heart that these
times could last forever. And Peter – every time he does something new, a part of my heart aches a little because he is becoming more of a toddler and less of an infant. I am doing exactly what caused such a strong reaction in me a few years ago. The difference, I suppose, is when I have those feelings of sadness about the boys growing up, I feel them and remember it is a blessing that my heart is aching at the natural progression of life. I don’t know if I would have had that appreciation had it not been for June.

Sometimes I can actually see our ‘old’ lives in my mind when I am sitting in the room rocking Peter. I can see June on the floor or myself in there giving her medicine.  It’s almost like both worlds are happening simultaneously in my mind. I hope that never goes away because our time with June continues to teach me all the time.

While June was alive, I frequently wrote in journals to process everything we went through.  I would use them to write down my thoughts and concerns, questions for the doctors and therapists, or to record small triumphs.  Recently, I’ve been going through them, and I’d like to share one on this blog because it reminds me to cherish every day while being grateful that nothing lasts forever.

January 10, 2016 – 11 days before June went on hospice

Lately, George likes to grab my nose or mouth or touch my face while he’s nursing. It’s so sweet. He is so much fun right now. I’m in totally new territory with him. He’s sitting up in the bath and just such a little rascal. He’ trying to crawl. Everything from here on out is new. We’ve been permanently stuck in the newborn stage with June for almost four years. It’s just so hard to believe we are doing things we’ve always wanted to do/experience with June with George. It makes me happy, but I am also scared…scared something is going to happen. When will it all be taken from us? Whenever I start going down this scared path, I try to just think of something else, but it’s there. The point is – and what I need to focus on – is right now – in this very moment – life is good. George is healthy and happy. June is in her crib comfortable. Matt is next to me sleeping, and I am in a good place. I love my husband and my kids. I have everything I’ve ever wanted. I just want to take a moment to appreciate all the gifts I do have.

The other thing I thought about today is how I am June’s mother, but she has taught me more than I will ever teach her. In fact, I don’t think I’ve taught her anything at all. I’ve loved her and cared for her, but all the teaching has been on her end.  She’s taught me about smiling through the suffering, about love, acceptance, bravery, patience, perseverance, and humor. I will never know why some children face grave circumstances, but I believe we can make meaning from these situations because they will change us for the better if we let them.  Every day I try to cherish June because I never know if it will be my last with her. She is my angel here on earth, and I believe when she goes home to heaven she will still be with me.  As long as I am living, she will always be my baby, and I know our love can transcend, her love will find me and my love for her will reach her all the way in heaven.

Yesterday I came across this quote by Carl Jung, “The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are.” This quote came to me at an interesting time because I’ve been thinking a lot about how June turned me into the person I was always supposed to be. I think she did that with a lot of people she encountered and continues to do that as we work in her memory.  It truly is a privilege to be her mom.