Z

Today he would be 18 days old.  His birthday was the 9th, you see.

I had the most amazing opportunity to meet him; to hold his perfect hands that look like his mommy's, to touch his perfect feet, to see how much his tiny mouth looks like his daddy's.

To say hello and goodbye.

I miss him.  I miss my nephew, Z.  He's my 14th N&N!  I love him so much.

This has by far been the most difficult month of my life, and I'm the Aunt.  I can't fathom walking this path in my brother and sister-in-law's shoes.  I would do it in their place in a heartbeat though. If I could.  That seems to be my constant wish; If I could.  But I can't.   Instead, I pray and cry and hope.  It's strange to be an aunt.  I wonder if all aunts feel as close to their nieces and nephews.  I wonder if I feel closer to them because I don't have children.  I wouldn't give up that closeness for anything.  Even when it hurts.

It has been a couple of weeks since we said our goodbyes to Z, but life is not the same.  You don't just move on.  I actually hate that phrase.  You can change it to "moving forward" and it makes it a little better, but it still just stinks.  I'm not one to use or feel comfort from platitudes, even if they are true.  I see the happiness of a new birth with other parents all over the place now, when I don't think I noticed it as much before.  I struggle with wanting to be happy for them, but feeling instead like I want to cry.  I want them to fully realize how fortunate they are.  Hearing about so many others (too many) who have walked this path and come through gives me hope, but still reminds me how much I had taken for granted, and how awful living in a fallen world can be.  Singing beautiful praise songs in church is almost impossible.  Not because I don't believe it, but it's just so emotional.  I was supposed to be making multiple trips to see the little guy, playing with him and babysitting while mommy went to the store or the spa or wherever else she wanted to go!  He was supposed to be here.  It's not the same.  It won't ever be the same.  I don't want it to be the same.

I want to remember those perfect little fingers that looked like his mom's and the lips that formed points just like his dad's.  I want to remember how sweet his tiny perfect feet looked as they peeked out from his blanket.  I want to remember how much his mom and dad looked forward to his entry into the world and how much they love him.

Z has made an impact on my life, and so have his parents.  I have seen how they have loved him, grieved for him, rejoiced for him, and continue to support not only each other, but so many of us around them.  God is using Z.  As we discover all the ways, I will continue to believe that God is grieving with us and comforting us.