It has been way too long since I've started a letter with those words.
I've been feeling really guilty about that. I've wondered if people look at this blog and think, "well look at that, she had another baby and forgot all about Stevie." I remember after you died people would tell me, "you're young, you'll have other children," and I'd get so mad. I swore it didn't matter how many other babies I had, you would always be my first; I'd never move on or stop thinking about you.
But then Elliot was born and I guess, in some ways, I have moved on. Of course I haven't forgotten about you, but I'd be lying if I said I think about you as often as I used to. My focus in life has certainly changed. I spend less and less time engrossed in 'babyloss things' and more and more time immersed in parenting things. I go to baby yoga and new mama groups and plan play dates and craft activities and read child development books. I spend way more time in my cloth diapering and baby wearing facebook groups than I do in my babyloss groups.
And I'm happy. Truly happy.
I honestly feel like a horrible person for even saying that. As weird as it may sound to some people, there are times I really miss being sad. Times I really miss feeling so close and connected and focused on you.
So the other day Elliot and I went for a little walk. It's finally starting to feel like fall, and the trees back behind our house are already starting to change colors and sprinkle their crunchy leaves all over the ground. It's beautiful.
Anyway, we were walking along and I almost walked right past this big, full tree on the left without thinking anything of it. Then I remembered. That tree was not just any old tree--it was your tree. I turned around and went back. and there, on the trunk, I saw this:
Over two years later, your name is still there. Seasons have come and gone. Snow, sleet, wind and rain. But your mark remains.
I'm not really a big believer in signs, but I couldn't help but feel like you were gently reminding me that even though things have changed, even though I'm in a different season of life, you're still here. It's like you were whispering, "hey Mom, it's okay, I haven't gone anywhere."
I really needed that.
I still love you, Baby Girl. I'm still here, too. Always and forever.