My Cayden. 11 months ago today you came forth into this world to touch my heart, my soul and change me forever. I wish I knew, I wish I could really see and know who I have and am becoming. I know from the moment the doctor first told me that there was something terribly wrong I changed. I would never again be the woman, the mother, the person I was. There isn't a soul that has ever lived with the knowledge of her childs impending doom that hasn't changed, almost on a cellular level. I feel like everything, every single thing I ever knew or though I knew changed in that moment. So that's established. I'm changed. I'm different. But when will I KNOW who this new me is? Will I ever know this woman I am like I knew the woman I was? Will I like who I am? Right now, I don't. In fact I don't really even really like the woman I was. When I was that woman I liked me, but now I don't like her. So what is that? Will I have to go through this entire life I have in front of me without you not liking myself? Not liking who I am?
Oh Cayden, I looked at your photo tonight for the longest time. You were so handsome. So wonderful. I know that the doctor said you weren't really there, but I knew then and it was reaffirmed for me tonight. You were there. You looked into my eyes. You knew, and God please tell me that you still know how very much I love you. Every thing I do now I do for your memory and for your big brother. Everything. Always.