When I began this blog, my intention was that it would be Owen’s. That I would write about my first sweet son, his loss, and all that I have learned as a result. And it occurred to me that perhaps Michael’s story would be told one day, but that I would tell it separately. The losses of my two boys were to me so different that it seemed their stories could not exist in just one place. And so I tried to begin telling the story that my heart understood. The story of my first sweet son. The story in which I saw beauty.
But as I sat down to write, the words eluded me. I struggled to write Owen’s story in a way I have never before struggled to write. And then I realized the truth in it all. That their stories must exist in one place, because they already do. The stories of my two baby boys are forever written deeply within my heart. I can no longer tell one without telling the other.
I could not write Owen’s story (or rewrite it for this blog, as it has been written before) without first telling the story of his new baby brother. The ache in my heart was too deep and too fresh. Baby Michael’s story needed to be told. His big brother Owen’s story will follow soon (I hope in time for Owen’s third birthday, just a couple of weeks away).
But for now, here is the story of my second precious baby boy. My sweet little peanut. The child of my heart. Writing Michael’s story has been an emotional journey. I have relived moments I want to forget. But also ones I will cherish forever. I am so glad to have written his story. And I am so honoured that it is mine to tell.
If you would like to read Michael's story, click here.