When Nolan’s “pregnancy” Shutterfly book arrived, we ooh-ed and aah-ed. We reminisced and cried happy tears. The weekly belly pictures, the ultrasounds, the pictures of the hard work we put in getting his nursery ready. The book was such a special chronicle of such a special time.
And when it arrived, we read it to Nolan.
Since than, we have looked through it countless times…with Nolan.
Today I got home to an orange box on the porch. Another Shutterfly book. Another pregnancy journal. Another book telling the story of the nine months we had with our second son. The only nine months we had with him.
It has the same belly pictures, the same ultrasounds, the same memories of putting together his crib and getting his nursery ready, this time with his big brother’s help. It’s another chronicle of a special time.
But this time the ending is just that. An ending. It’s our goodbye to Simon in the hospital. It’s the only pictures we will ever have with our son.
This book is the story of our time with our son, and he will never see it.
We will never read it to him.
We won’t look through it countless times with him.
Just like last time, as soon as I opened the box, my eyes welled up with tears. But the smile wasn’t there. Like last time, I felt my heart swell with pride looking at the pictures of my son, and it broke knowing that there will be no more. Just like last time I spent the evening reading it over and over. But this time, I’m not ooh-ing and aah-ing.
And I’m spiraling.
So I’m writing.
I’m so damn glad we have this book. We’ll keep it forever, and read it with pride. And we’ll read it with a hole in our hearts.