Iain's Birthday

I woke up this morning at five o' clock and the first thing I thought of was holding Dalton's hand in the labor and delivery room at St. Joseph's hospital in Burbank. It was just about five when the nurse came into the room and said that the doctor was on his way.

Impossible to believe that was just two year's ago.

Today I have been flooded with thoughts of that day and how much emotion and joy and expectation and promise there was. My labor was 23 hours long and Dalton was there the whole time. In fact, I think he slept less that night than I did. When Iain finally arrived, his first scream didn't really impress the respiratory therapist, so he was take to the NICU for monitoring. Dalton went with him and took pictures of Iain's first bath, his first yawn, his first swaddle. Dalton was so relieved that everyone was healthy becuase for some reason he had a terrible fear that I was going to die in childbirth.

Life is just so different from what it was supposed to be.

Last year, Iain's birthday party was a huge affair. For many people, it was the last time they saw Dalton alive. He was really thin and obviously sick, but that day God gave him supernatural strength and joy. He might not have looked like himself, but he certainly behaved that way. He was the consummate host, making the rounds, smiling, laughing, and making sure that we didn't run out of hot dogs or nacho cheese (it was a Dodger themed event). I still don't know how he managed to do so much, but I think he either knew or feared that it would be the only birthday he would share with his son, and he wanted to do it right.

Tomorrow is Iain's second birthday party and to be honest, I really don't have the energy or the inclination to take over where Dalton left off. I don't want to be the consummate host, smiling, laughing and making sure we don't run out of pizza (no Dodger theme this year). Not without my partner. Not without Iain's Daddy. Not when every bone in my body hurts from weeks of poor sleep and I have a horrible headache (something that happens every time I cry all day). But damnit, Iain deserves better than that. Yes, he needs to know I'm sad and that grief is real and that I miss his Dad terribly. But, he also needs to know that he is important too. That his birthday is worth my energy and my joy. He needs to be able to run around the yard with his buddies and open presents and enjoy being celebrated for who he is. And for goodness sake, if Dalton was able to do it...

So, please, God, let me have the strength to do that for Iain. Let me have the strength to do it for Dalton. Let me do it right.