Today was four months since we first brought you into this world in a most unconventional way. Your little life was lived in such a strange place compared to most, but I refuse to believe it was any less significant. You’re so very special, darling.
Today at church, Father David gave us a hand-woven blanket shawl made to comfort us when we are lonely for you. We decided to get a paver stone for the church in memory of you, too. I hope others will see it and wonder about the life of Jude Delcambre. I often do.
Today, Lillianne pointed to a photo of you and your daddy that sits on our bookshelf, and she said Jude. Your sister is so smart and special, darling. It amazes me how delightful she is, and it hurts my heart so much to think of how special you and she would have been together. Mommy doesn’t blame God nor is mommy upset with God, but mommy can’t help but wonder why….especially while she sees everyone else having babies and babies close in age and such. That’s not to say Mommy isn’t happy for the other babies and families; it’s just to say that mommy feels sad because she misses you so very, very much.
I can’t help but think hard of you sometimes, Jude. When I say hard, I mean that I think of you in the kind of way that makes me feel like I’m being vacuumed into a pit. The depths of my pain and despair and loss of you are boundless. I want to scream and cry and write and run and paint and hurt and float away for the misery that wells within. There’s a depth of suffering that I know that I don’t know how I contain other than the hours in the day in which to feel and to have steam expire and I simply fall asleep on principle. If It weren’t for that, I think I could go crazy for pain.
Of course, because i love you, and I know you want and deserve a well mommy, I don’t, and i won’t go crazy. I’ll keep trying and I’ll keep hoping. I’ll keep being good to daddy, and I’ll keep being good to Lillianne. I’ll hold you in my heart. I hope that we will have more siblings to know about you and to be impacted by you, sweetie. I want you to know how special you are. Even though I can’t hug you with my arms, I hug you every day in my heart, and you know it’s a big, tight squeeze. I wish I could hug you with my arms and kiss you and feel your warmth and your smile beneath my cheek. I wish I could hear your giggle. I can’t even imagine it, but I imagine you love me as much as I love you.
Every time I see a red bird, I say your name, Jude; I say it out loud. Our neighbor told me that red birds were our loved ones coming from heaven to check on us. I like to think that’s so, and if so, thank you for coming so often. My baby boy, I need you, and I miss you, so thank you for the birds. Thank you for the sun and the wind. Thank you for being you, exactly as you are. Wait for mommy and daddy in Heaven. I love you and miss you. Happy four month birthday, darling. You’re my little world.