A Funny Thing

A couple days ago, I was messing around on Facebook. Just looking at pictures and things that my friends had posted. A couple friends had posted pictures of their sons. They are both in the 4 year old range and adorable kids. I had a strange feeling of longing. A pang of sadness. A stab of anger. Why?

Usually, I have tried to avoid pictures of the babies, now toddlers, that had been born around the same time as Phineas. I know quite a few, actually, and they are mostly boys. It's getting easier, but there are still moments I wonder. But why had these pictures affected me so?

I longed for my son, for the boy he'd be becoming. Now, as his younger brother is starting to become a proper little boy, I know we are well past babyhood for both of them. I don't have the sadness I did when I was around small babies that I did for a long time. I can see them and marvel in them. There is no rage of jealousy or anger that their parents got what I didn't.

We watched a show last night where people were discussing their lives and a couple people had suffered significant losses in their lives. Of course, one of them had lost a baby boy at birth. Like that mother, our loss has caused me to examine myself more, to cherish more.

Nate and I sometimes say how enamored we are with our little Frederick, and why that is. Why is our connection so powerful, even stronger than when the girls were babies? It's not him, though, it's Phineas. We treasure all of our children much more since we have lost. Sometimes I just sit and gaze at my children, trying to soak in every bit of them, counting moments. I know there are only so many for each of us. I think this is the essence of what loss has done to us.