I feel like I've been able to be pretty strong lately. Dustin has been back at work, and the kids have been kept clean, fed, and happy. And the house is in pretty good shape, and I have spent 80% of the past 2 weeks smiling.
But today is just a hard day.
I don't know what started it, I just know that today feels empty. I'm here, in my house (which is FAR from empty, quiet, or lonely!), with my family. And they are my world. But it just seems to keep overwhelming me today that Khoen is missing.
I haven't had a big breakdown in the past 2 weeks either, until today. Yet I'm crying while I write this, so please excuse the typos. I'm sure there will be a million.
Dustin had a moment the other day. He came home from work, and I was in the kitchen eating dinner with the girls. I had Mikah on my lap, and he said he almost asked me where Khoen was, so he could go get him, and bring him in there.
Sometimes that reality is just so cold. And I swear it really does hit like a ton of bricks.
Today I just keep trying to remember every little detail of Khoen. Every little thing I loved about him, and that made him my sweet little boy. And some of them may sound so crazy, but they are my memories, and to me they are perfect.
I remember how perfectly round his little head was. And he had just the tiniest bit of dark brown hair. Not enough to stick up on his head, buy just enough to make it feel so soft when I rubbed it. Khoen LOVED when I would rub his head, especially during his nighttime bottles. He was so content.
He had blue eyes, but they were dark. I think they would have turned brown....they had a brownish tint to them. He would stare up at me with those sweet eyes, and just watch me as I rocked him.
And his birthmark on his left thigh...I would always rub his leg there. I know it sounds insane, but I loved his birthmark, and it always made me smile. Maybe it was because subconsciously I knew I needed to remember it so clearly. I don't know.
And his cry. So deep down from his throat. He cried like no other baby I've ever heard...it was low pitched, and sometimes so quiet you wouldn't even notice. Such a sweet cry.
I remember his chubby little soft cheeks, and his PERFECT nose. Dustin and I always said Khoen looked too perfect to be ours. (We say that about all our kids. But I make this blog about Khoen, so I'm just focusing on him. No, I don't pick favorites.) And we were right.
Khoen wasn't ours....none of our kids are. They are God's. Khoen was His. He is His. And it still seems so unfair, but I know its not meant for me to understand.
I've been sitting in this rocking chair in my room, Khoen bear on my lap, staring at the crib that my boys were supposed to share until now. We said Mikah and Khoen could share the crib in our room until they were 6 months old, then we would put them in their own cribs in their room. Mikah is 6 months old now. Khoen never got to see that day.
I can't make myself think about decorating Mikahs room. I want to, yes. But I have their names in wooden letters, and I had never gotten a chance to paint them. I still plan to paint both, but I don't know how to decorate his room anymore. It will seem so bare to me with only one crib, even though I know it will be full.
Plus, I want to make a special place in the house for Khoen. A wall, or something, dedicated just to him. We don't have an extra room, so I dont know where to do it. I can't make myself hang Khoens name in the room they were going to share, because it would honestly break my heart every time I opened the door. So I have to make it Mikahs, and just Mikahs....but I'm still trying to figure out how to do that.
Sitting here rubbing Khoen Bears head and little legs helps and hurts at the same time. It's amazing to have him to hold, but I want so badly, more than anything right now, to hold Khoen again. I want to rub Khoens head, and see his birthmark, and hear him cry. I want to hear him make little noises, and try to figure out this world. I want to see him eat cereal, and I want to feed him his bottle. And I want so, so badly to see him smile, and hear him laugh.
God, this is so hard.
Khoen, mommy misses you so much, and I swear it seems like its getting harder sometimes as time passes. I just want to snuggled you again, cuddlebug. I know your happy, and for that I'm happy for you. I just can't wait to see you again. You are such a blessing, Khoen. And it honors that God chose me to be your mommy. Sometimes its just so much harder than you can imagine for mommy not to be selfish, and just want you here, with me, all to myself, forever. And I know that will happen someday. Mommy is just missing you hard today. I love you so much, and I hope you know that. I told you all the time, yet I feel I didn't get to tell you enough.
Sometimes its still hard on me too knowing that I missed Khoens last day. It kills me wondering how many times he smiled, or cried, and wondering if he noticed I wasn't there. I kissed him goodbye that morning, while he was still asleep. So precious and innocent. And so alive.
I hate this pain. And it breaks my heart whenever I hear of another mommy joining my circle. Another little angel going to play with Khoen in Heaven. It's just SO UNFAIR. That, and seeing little ones suffer, and struggle, going through battles with cancer and diseases....it just isn't right. And I get so scared then when I hear of those kids, because I don't want their mommies and daddies to understand this feeling. I don't want them to know it. I just want them to kick those illnesses in the butt and get better.
Our doctor has already warned us that there is a pretty good chance that Khoens death certificate will say SIDS on it. And I will have to live with that. But I can't shake the feeling that I should have done more.
When Khoens soft spot would swell, I always took him to the doctor. Or the hospital. I took him for his head ultrasounds. They said he would grow out of the extra fluid around his brain. That it was harmless.
But Khoen is gone, and he didn't grow out of anything. And I'm just not convinced it was all harmless. Which makes me feel like I failed Khoen as a mommy. I would have given him the world. I would have done anything for him, anything to make him better if he was sick. I'll never know if the fluid on his brain caused pressure, or gave him headaches.
I'll never know if my little boy was really ok, or if more could have been done to save him. He's gone now, and I just wish he weren't.
I've visited his grave multiple times this week, sometimes more than once a day. Makenna wants to ride by every night and make sure his "nightlights" are working. He has 2 of them. And sometimes, she will come to me crying, saying she misses Khoen and wants him to come home. It's so unfair to her, too. She shouldn't know this pain and loss at 4 years old.
But, I still fully trust God. I know He knows what he is doing, and my little Khoen had a greater purpose. I wholeheartedly believe that. Like I said in an earlier post, Khoens name means "Priest", and he is just that. He has shown all of us God in ways we hadn't seen before. And shown us that we won't get through this life without Him.
I will always love my son, and I'll miss him while I'm on earth. This pain may get easier to deal with, but it will never go away. And I dont think I will ever feel complete again. But I know I WILL see Khoen again. And I can't wait, baby boy. You are so special, so precious, so perfect.
I love you, Khoen Lee. Always and forever.
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