I miss my little boy today.
This morning I got up early and walked down the little path in our apartment complex to the small gym they have provided for the residents to use. Before I jumped on the treadmill to begin my grueling workout-haha, I turned on the TV above me as I walked briskly. The show that was just coming on was called, 19 and counting. Many of you have probably seen this show before. It's about a really nice, religious couple who have 19 kids! I have seen a show or two about them before but that was WAY before they had their own TV show, and at that time they only had 16 kids, I believe. So it's been a few years since I have seen this family on TV. And now they are up to 19! Crazy. I mean seriously, "crazy-I-would-be."
Well, as I was watching, the parents of the 19 kids were heading up to the hospital to see their newest baby, a girl named Josie (I think) and she was born very early. The mother (forgot her name, the only one in the family that doesn't have a "J" name) was talking to another young new mother at the hospital, who had a son that was born at 23 weeks and 2 days. Weighing 1 pound 9 ounces. And as soon as they showed footage of this tiny sweet boy who was hooked up to a ventilator and all the tubes coming from him, I just bawled!
As you know our little ones, Emily and Ethan were born unexpectedly at 23 weeks. Emily was 1 pound 4 ounces and Ethan was 1 pound 7 ounces. So when this young mother was talking about her little boy and the struggles and heartache she was going through, I couldn't hold back the tears! It was like I was reliving it all over again. The sights, sounds and worry. The heartache of seeing your baby on a ventilator and so so sick and there's nothing you can do but pray, wait and pray some more. I don't know what has happened with this young mother or her baby boy. I don't know when this episode was taped, but I pray that this little boy makes it and he comes out stronger as well as this young mother.
I still think about Ethan everyday. Whether it's just for a few short seconds as I pass by his picture, a TV show that says something that reminds me of him.Talking with other mothers at the library or store who ask, "How many kids do you have?" (I still have a hard time answering that question). Many times a memory will just pop into my head, or a noise or smell will remind me of him. Always when I hear the name "Ethan". Always when I see twins, especially boy and girl twins. And always and especially when I see the numbers:
11:11 AM/PM on any digital clock.
Why 11:11?
11:11 is such a special number to me. I haven't shared this with too many people, because most would think, "crazy-I-am". But when I was in high school I would lay awake staring at my digital clock on my nightstand almost in a nervous, anxious, yet, excited state. And when the clock went from 11:10 to 11:11, it was like, I could now sleep. I had seen "my" number so I could now close my eyes....
BUT wait! Did I? Had I really seen it?? Sometimes even after I saw 11:11, I would have to peek again and again and again, till it turned 11:12. It was like I had an OCD with this particular number. I would have to reassure myself that I did see it. I really can't say why I did this. Well, for obvious reasons, I am weird. Call me a dork. Or call me crazy. Whichever you prefer. lol.
It was almost a nightly ritual. Of course, there were nights in high school that I would go to bed at 10 or even 9:30 if I could, which didn't happen often so I would miss my 11:11 moment. But those nights where I was up late doing homework, showering, getting home from working late, I would always lay wide awake until 11:11 had passed.
Now WHY or HOW does this relate to Ethan you may be asking?
Ethan was born at 11:11am. A beautiful gift.
Waking up in the hospital after the twins were born I was in so much pain. Well, that is a bit of an understatement. It WAS the
most excruciating physical pain I have ever felt in my life. I had an emergency C-section. The pain of being cut open, stapled shut and throwing up several times during and after the procedure as my earlier breakfast meal was not going to stay down. The pain in my abdomen was so intense, as there was no time for pain killers. It literally felt like I had been shot through the stomach by a missile! (Not that I know what a missile through the stomach feels like, but if I did, it would have felt like this, I am sure.)
The pain was so intense I couldn't even talk. All I could do was moan and cry. Yet, through all that, my mind was racing. My thoughts were uncontrollable, going from one extreme to another..... Are our babies OK? Are they even alive? I hurt so bad! Where are the babies? Why is this tube up my crotch? My stomach hurts! Why are all these people around me? Who shot me? My stomach hurts! How come my eyes won't stay open?! Where are my parents? Where is Ryan?-Oh there is he. My stomach hurts!! Am I naked?-Hurry, cover up! Why isn't this pain medicine working?! I keep pushing the button! Where's my babies? Did they survive? Am I going to DIE!? My stomach!!
I know. Dramatic, huh?
Ryan was there by my side talking with me, telling me things, as my thoughts were racing. Yet, it was like he was speaking another language. Most everything he said was going in one ear and out the other. I couldn't focus on his words at all but one thing he did tell me that I remember vividly was he said, "Ethan was born at 11:11."
11:11!?
That's my special number!
It will be two years in a little over a month when Emily and Ethan came into our lives. I am so grateful that we have Emily in our lives, I can't imagine our family without her. But I miss Ethan. I often wonder what he would have looked like, and what his personality would have been like. If he would have liked pickles like Ryan and I? If he would have taken the opposite shoe that Emily had taken and wear it around the house too? If he would have sneaked a bag of Oreo's, hid under his bed and I would have caught him with chocolate all over his face, whiling he is grinning from ear to ear at me. If he would have made a cute noise imitating that of a car or truck as he pushed it on the kitchen tile? If he would have been a football, baseball or tennis boy? Or if he would have been a great singer like his daddy? What it would feel like to get kisses and hugs from a little boy? My little boy.
I love that Ryan is the first, and oldest and Ethan is the last and youngest. "0xxxxo." And us, girls are surrounded by our boys.
Many might say that it was a coincident that Ethan was born at 11:11. That it doesn't mean anything. But I don't, and can't believe that. I believe Heavenly Father gives all of us signs and little things in our lives if we are open to it, that can give us a glimpse of the other side while we are here on earth. I believe this was by no mistake that Ethan was born at this special time. It makes me ponder why in high school I would always have to wait and witness this number on the clock. I didn't know then what it would mean to me now. Now, I know. Heavenly Father always knew. It is a great reminder to me of His eternal love for me and for our family. He has given me so many blessings and although this one may seem small, it has been a great blessing and strength to me since Ethan's passing. How can a number be a great strength and blessing?
11:11 is more to me, than just a number. It gives me a feeling that Ethan has stopped his work just for a minute to look down at me as I look up at him and we smile at each other and tell each other, I love you. And we will be together again soon.
(I posted this at 11:11am today.... I love you Ethan. We will be together again soon. Love, Mom)
