A blogger who also lost a baby boy to the same thing I lost mine to, wrote something about how he flinches and feels horrible every time he thinks of his son's birth and feels amazed that he has survived every day since. I feel the same way. There is pride in surviving all kinds of things: cancer, poverty...but there is no pride in surviving your own child. The only pride I have (and maybe pride is not the right word) is that my marriage survived the loss of our son.

It is wild for me to think I've had 5 kids. I definitely look like I've had 5 kids these days, it is very tiring & as I get older the weight doesn't come off from just breastfeeding. I am not one to feel sorry for myself, I have four very healthy boys, one of whom is just a wee bit crazier than the others, yet, I do miss my second son and I have many layers of loss involved with his death. I am not articulate about grief anymore, like I once was, I'm not in the rawest place. Sometimes I oddly miss that first year of pain though because I felt closest to my little guy then. Every day for the first year I could remember exactly how holding him felt, now I have him mixed up with the other babies.

Tonight I went to a friend's house with older kids. She kept pointing out all of the great things I could do to my house in the future when my kids are the age of hers. She seemed very worried my boys would get out of control in her house. Things improved after we had some beer. :)
I really am not in a rush to have the perfect house or the quiet of older kids who are into their own stuff. I am overjoyed to have a tiny baby, a toddler/almost preschooler, and 2 bigger boys. I breathe in the baby constantly, I just soak in his sweetness. He smiles at me no matter what, its no wonder I hold him constantly. I know what its like to have them grow and want less to do with you and I know what its like when your child is not here, at all.