It’s still surreal that I have a one year old. The past year has gone so fast, and so slow, and everything in between. His first birthday wasn’t as griefy as I thought it might be; I was expecting it to be hard because it’s such a big milestone that I never got to see with George, and that Sara would’ve gone ALL OUT for. But more recently, there have been a few things that really got me.
Tonight after spending some time playing together and then a short cuddle and some milk, I put Theodore in his crib, kissed and hugged him goodnight, then left the room. He cried for a minute or two, but then I looked at the monitor and saw he’d laid down and was asleep. This is a dramatic shift from our routine for the first year of his life when I would hold him until he fell asleep in my arms almost every night. I loved that time together, but it was also hard on nights when I was tired or sick or just needed a break. But now – ever since he turned one – Theodore has been going to sleep on his own in his crib at night.
I’m mostly relieved that I have more freedom to do things in the evening, but it also feels odd – this is the type of thing that I can just picture Sara and I excitedly cheering on together. I can see us looking around at the house and at each other and celebrating that we might actually start getting some regular, real, time together now that Theo’s not needing an hour of cuddling to get to sleep every night. The strength and clarity of that alternate reality feels just so strong right now.
Then, there’s the baby bottles. We’ve transitioned Theodore from bottles to sippy cups, and tonight I was packing away the main collection of bottles we’ve been using. I can’t remember which night last week I gave him his last proper bottle, but that train has officially left the station. It’s hard to explain, but something about packing away Theo’s bottles while simultaneously reflecting on the fact that George never even took a breath – it just struck me as so horrendously unfair. That alternate reality where I have 2 kiddos under 3 and George is the rambunctious big brother – well, it’s also very close to the surface. Theodore LOVES to climb. He will climb anything and seems fearless. I can just see him being willing to follow George anywhere and everywhere even if it’s new or scary or perhaps something they shouldn’t be doing.
We’re doing this – we’re getting by as what looks like a little family of two while we’re really a little family of 4, two of whom are no longer here with us – but who, in a way, very much ARE here with us. Life’s still awkward sometimes – like when the furniture salesperson asked if my wife was working or when people ask if Theo’s my first and I still waffle EVERY SINGLE TIME in a moment of panic about how to answer. We are loved by family and friends and some days are REALLY hard but some days feel pretty amazing. And some days are really hard and pretty amazing, all in one day or even at the same time.
I suspect that this alternate life movie that is running in my head and in my heart, of what life should be like if Sara or George or both had survived, will always be there. Today was about sleep schedules and baby bottles, but in a few months it’s going to be about transitioning to toddler class and then it’s going to be about my turning 40 and Theo’s first holiday season when he’s really old enough to have fun.
Theo and I are beautiful and perfect as we are – and I hold that truth while also knowing that I would very much prefer that Sara and George both be here with us.