Bikers, Leather, Engines and Aidan

What if your hardest day was your first? What if it was your only?

My sweet sweet Aidan. One day. I held you in my arms for one day.

Each and every day since I spend searching for ways to honor you. Ways to be close to you. Ways to make the distance feel not so far.

More often than not, the true moments are complete surprises.

Tonight was no different.

We are this year's ambassador family for Bikers for Babies. Tonight, we attended Bike Night and the pre-registration event. I knew that something was planned. I could have never imagined what was about to happen.

Travis pulled us up on stage. He shared a part of Aidan's story. He asked all of the bikers to send a message to Aidan, making sure he knew the amount of love we have for him. And then this magical ear splitting moment happened. 1,000 plus motorcycles revved their engines simutaneously. And it went on forever.

Never in a million years, did I think I would feel him there. Standing on that stage, looking at this massive crowd. Standing beside Evan and knowing he was willing to stand there with me. Looking at Travis and seeing his eyes well up. Looking out and seeing my March of Dimes Family laughing and smiling through their tears, I felt him. In the breeze. In the rumble of the engines. In the faces of those people who had no idea the impact they were making. I felt a piece of A. I missed him with such ferocity, but I felt him.

Nothing could have topped that moment. Until we stepped off stage and complete strangers came to hug us. To share their stories. To share how they were so grateful to finally meet Aidan's parents because they had been touched by his life. His life, not his death. But, his life.

It caught me completely off guard. It was this glorious moment though. One I will treasure and am so thankful for.

  

The connections

Life these days is such an oxymoron.

Some days, I feel completely removed. I am afraid that all of the connections I once had in the world have been severed. There are moments where I feel lost. Moments where I just have to smile and fake it. Convince myself and everyone around me that I'm doing "better." That I am fine with living without Aidan. That my world is setting itself back in the upright position.

Other days, I find these crazy connections. Connections with friends and family who reach out and get it. They may not actually understand how I feel, but they allow me to be. A hand is extended and suddenly I'm not so alone.

Then there are the connections that are made because of Aidan. Not in spite of him.

When I hear of another mom, my instinct is to reach out. Our children bind us.

A connection has been growing. It started with a brick. Then grew to March of Dimes. And now, has brought me a part of someone who unexpectedly passed two years ago. Danny. My sweet teddy bear of a cousin. Our hearts were broken when he passed that June morning.

And now, he is allowing me another connection. His love. His smile. His music. His smell. Oh his smell. (If you knew Danny, you know what I'm talking about)

His legacy. Aidan's legacy.

I admitted for the first time tonight a dream I keep having. A comforting dream. I don't get those very often. I have kept this one to myself.

Every so often, I see Danny. In his button up shirt, straw hat and it looks like he is holding his banjo. Only when I run up to hug him, he's holding Aidan. He smiles that smile. His eyes glisten. He tells me how proud he is of my son. And then they just walk away together. And I feel peace.

I am so thankful for the glimpses of heaven that come in dreams. I am so thankful for the connections that our loved ones leave behind. I am just so thankful. 

Aidan's Travels and The Journey

There has been a blog set up that will display all of the pictures of Aidan's travels. This was started by a sweet lady who is spending the summer in Europe and is taking A's bracelet along with her. She has invited me to keep up with the other parts of his travels as well. If you have a band and have pictures of it in different places, please send it to me. I love love love seeing all of the places he goes. If you would like a band, let me know and we will get one to you! And it just warms my heart to think he means enough for you to take him with you!

You can follow his travels here.

Today is also the second release of The Journey. I hope you will go and read the blogs that have linked up with my post. These moms are bearing their hearts and souls and we all need the support and encouragement.

Yesterday was nine months.

I got to meet one of Aidan's friends for the first time. She was born just a few weeks after Aidan and we just now found the time to meet. She is a precious, perfect example of what my life might have been like had the circumstances been different. It was bittersweet, but it didn't hurt like one might have imagined.

I was thankful to find that I am able to separate. I was able to see her for the miracle she is. I was able to hold her and giggle. I was able to look at her and feel the goodness.

Her momma is so near and dear to my heart. We took bump pictures together no more than a month before I went into labor. My heart felt immense love for her little girl. I was so thankful to be able to sit there and just be. My heart tugged but it didn't break. I was able to smile and envision what life might have looked like. What it will hopefully look like one day.

I walked away with tears for what won't be with Aidan. But, also with hope for the day I get to introduce a child of my own.

Bridging the gap

There is this gap between me and you. It is my empty arms. It is his headstone. It is the blessing that you don't have to understand what it is like on this side.

There are things I know. Things that have forever changed and I know without a shadow of a doubt.

• I will see Aidan again one day.
• You love me.
• You wish the pain could go away.
• You wish there was something you could do.
• It hurts you to watch me hurt.
• I will always miss him.
• Time goes on. Not one person's life was altered like mine was by this. I can't hold that against anyone.
• In the same breath, you can't hold it against me because I'm not where you think I should be.
• There are days that are harder than others.
• I want nothing more than to be a mom.
• No child will ever replace Aidan.

Then are things that I do not know. Some I may learn. Others will always be a mystery.

• What color were his eyes?
• Would they have crinkled like mine when he smiled?
• Was his cry soft or was it a wail?
• When I will be ready to try again. Not because I am afraid of replacing Aidan. Or that I'm not ready to have a baby. But, because I don't know when I will trust my body enough. I don't know when I will be able to handle the grief, the fear, the hormones or the bed rest.
• What it feels like to bring your first born home.
• When I will get to join that inner circle and not feel like an outsider.
• When I won't have to fake it till I can make it.
• What it feels like to not have people afraid to say his name or see his perfect face.
• What it is like to just be. To just be at peace. Calm. Not in the midst of a storm.
• What is like to feel truly safe.
• What is like to have a child look at you and say Momma.

It's coming up on nine months. Some say that's way to long to still be grieving. To me? It feels like yesterday. I still wake up reaching for my pregnant belly. I still dream of him alive. I wake up in cold sweats reliving labor. Reliving picking out his casket as I held him in my arms. I can still smell him. I sit at his spot and tell him things I can't tell anyone else.  

At the same time, I get up each morning. I work. I live this life I didn't choose. I do my best. I am trying to find a balance between our old lives and this new one. Sometimes that just isn't good enough. Sometimes, no matter what step I take, it isn't the right one. So I'm afraid to take one at all.

And while, to the outside world it may not seem like I am moving forward. Or that I'm not getting over it quick enough.

I'm trying. I'm doing the best I can. I will never get over it. And each day is another step. It may not be some gigantic step that is visible to you, but it is big enough. I am attempting to bridge the gap between us.