Happy Birthday, Huxley! Today I am… existing. It’s your birthday and I wonder, do you celebrate birthdays in Heaven? Is there a reason to…eternity and all? Would the celebrations be bigger for the day you enter Heaven over the day you are born to Earth, in that case yesterday or possibly even the day before for you? Is it an “all March celebrations we celebrate you all now” or is it individual, detailed, and intimate? I have so many new questions. Would we celebrate us in Heaven at all when we have Jesus to celebrate and worship every day for everything. What does this look like in Heaven?

Here, we celebrated, remembered, and mourned. We had some big plans actually. Our “plan A” was to take a military space available flight to Hawaii and celebrate among some of the most beautiful views of God’s creation. I was excited to feel close through being in the wilds and greenery that is Hawaii. However, grief, work, and life stresses became too overwhelming, and that plan was put to an end about a week before departure. Instead, one of my best friends suggested a simpler time like all other birthdays we celebrate. It seems like I am always trying to make up for him not being here that I let go of what our regular and true to us traditions are. Simple birthdays, sometimes guests sometimes not. Always adventure. Always cake. Always love. She suggested making it special by doing something outside even if it isn’t Hawaii, it is still His creation and then she said, “go camping even if it’s just in the backyard”. Billy and I decided that would be perfect for the amount of overwhelm we were experiencing and the amount of time from work we had available, as well as the funds would allow. The kids loved it. We woke up on his birthday outside with it raining on our tent. Rain wasn’t expected but it was a lovely gift…the next part of our plan was a nearby hike- while the rain was welcome for the wake up it did thwart our hike plans as it continued all day. Fitting. With some more readjusting we stayed in, played games together, ate finger foods we thought would be a 2-year-olds favorites. We decorated the dining room with our usual Happy Birthday sign, two balloons on a highchair set out for Huxley, and a big ole cake.

It’s been a weird day, a slow day. I simultaneously want the day to be over so I can just not feel the pressure of “did we celebrate well enough” but I would also love for it to last for many more hours so I can soak up all the emotions as they come instead of shrugging them off. Maybe it’s that I know tonight’s feelings are where it will hit the heaviest and I don’t really want to get there but I also want that wave to be over. I’m ready to be alone and cry. Be alone and feel. Not that I don’t feel comfortable to do those things in front of any number of people, especially my family, but I am easily distracted or thrown into thoughts of “others first” when they are around. Besides they have their own thoughts and emotions piling up too. Being respectful and available to each other is of higher importance right now. Sitting by myself and just talking to God, it’s what moves the emotions through, and I want to do that, and I want to avoid that. It doesn’t make sense unless you’ve been there, and I get that.

Today I mourn, remember, and celebrate.

I MOURN that Hux isn’t here with us. I get sad looking at an empty highchair where he belongs sitting next to his siblings, I mourn the ideas we have of him toddling around this house and backyard. I remember the impact his life has had these last 2 years and 9 months. I REMEMBER the connections made, kindness shared, and compassion built. I CELEBRATE his life. I would choose him every single time over even knowing how life would be. I celebrate the lives he’s changed for the better. I celebrate the way God has used his life to the goodness of His kingdom. I celebrate being his mom.

We have other amazing friends came over to watch our older two. Billy and I wanted time for reflection this year. Time for quiet. We struggled asking for this because all we truly want is to be with all of our children. It feels weird to leave them on a day when we miss one and desire togetherness. However, our emotions are high, our fuses short, and they are still young children. We wanted to allow them to behave as such, but we also know our limitations and the need for us to quiet our minds. Our dear friends came with dinner for the kids, they brought gifts for us as well. Sweet treats, a gift card for Billy and I to grab dinner while we were out. They even cleaned our house and played with our kids. Such kind, out of the way gestures, some grand and some simple but ALL that make this hard day a little more bearable. We are so grateful for them as well as my friend who helped me come up with a plan B that actually felt worthy, we are grateful to our friends who are far and sent messages or gifts remembering Huxley and us today. Grateful for family and friends who messaged or called to share their longing and love for him and us and their kindness to also allow us space to be together on our own. It feels like we’ve had people go above and beyond for us this year. This empty day was made a little fuller. Thank you.

Two years is still considered early grief. I can understand why. I try to be hopeful. I really do. If not for me then for everyone else. For this all to be palatable to read and watch. Honestly, though… well that makes it sound like I am just now about to be honest when in reality it’s all honest. The hopeful parts too. However, it would be deceiving to not add the despairing parts too. It’s hard going to sleep hugging a stuffed animal meant to “represent” your child. It’s hard remembering how he felt in your arms and knowing you can’t have that again. It’s hard looking at your two kids enjoying cake made for your third while his chair sits empty with balloons tied to it. It’s hard to have plans and have them pulled out from underneath you when all you want is to get away. It’s hard to lose a child. It’s hard to write and tell you that. It’s hard to watch your kids put on baby carriers and bring their brothers stuffies with them so he can “go on a walk with us”. It’s hard. I have this difficult opportunity to love and worship Christ in the hard. We will not always have it hard. There will come a day when we worship Him and there will be no tears, no sickness, no sadness, no betrayal, no fear and we will worship Him. But right now, I have this strange and seemingly foreign opportunity to worship Him in the hard. I will try. The hope is real. So is the hurt.

We remember Huxley everyday but today we celebrate him too. Happy Birthday little Hux. We love you. We love you. Thank you, Lord for his life and for your Glory in it.