Is it weird that I loved going to the pediatrician with Maxie?  I didn't even love my pediatrician.  I found him a little odd.  But, I loved getting the updates, hearing how healthy my Max was, the nurses telling me how cute he was, watching him smile at them and the other children in the waiting room.  It also meant getting to leave work early or for a few hours during the day to spend special time with my boy.

I have two vivid memories of times with Max at the pediatrician that stick with me.  One was getting there a little early for his last appointment, the week before he stopped breathing.  I parked the car and got in the backseat with him.  I pulled him out of his carseat and put him on my lap.  I played with him and told him how much I loved him and how happy he made me and how excited I was to spend the rest of my life watching him grow up.  We cuddled and smiled at each other.  I loved just being in that moment with him.  It breaks my heart in a million pieces thinking about it.

The second memory is probably from the same visit, though I am not 100% sure.  We were in one of the examining rooms, waiting for the doctor.  Max was on my lap and I was reading a book I found in there to him.  I could feel his contentment.  I mean, I could literally feel him feeling content.  It was amazing...it made me feel like the most important person in the world.  Then the doctor came in and looked at us and said something like, "He is sitting in the place he is happiest....right on mommy's lap".  I am sure I was beaming.  I was the mommy.  It blew my mind.

The pediatrician visits with Mo aren't quite the same.  In fact, they are a giant trigger.  They set me back and feel like someone has just punched me in the gut.  I feel stupid sitting there listening to the doctor, who I really like actually, tell me how great Mo is doing.  It's all just words.  Max was doing great...until he died.  I can only ever count on the present moment - Mo is doing great NOW.  Meaning - Mo is doing great in this instant.  No more, no less.  Not helpful.  For the last year and a half, doctors have been looking at me with either pity or complete lack of understanding saying things like, "the likelihood of this happening again is next to nothing".  To which I usually ask, "What is this?" and they look at me with complete dumbfoundedness.....like the dumbfoundedness that I feel every waking minute of every day.

Yesterday I was realizing that even though Mo is so similar to Maxie, he is also becoming so much more of his own person.  A person who, even at only four months, is very different from his brother.  While I am completely obsessed with everything that Mo is, it also highlights everything that he is not.  He is not Max.  Mo is no stand in for Max....just as Max would be no stand in for Mo.  And, I miss Max desperately.  I miss him with my whole self.  Our relationship was different than what I have with Mo.  I love them equally but they are different.  Every look Max gave me was filled with adoration and love and I am sure that is how I looked at him too.  Our connection was palpable.  I could just feel his love.  I'm not saying that it isn't similar with Mo - it's just different.  There is a desperate clinginess that I feel with Mo too, that I didn't feel with Max.  Sometimes I am just scared to leave whatever room that Mo is in.

I can't help but wonder - is this just how my life is now?  I am so tired of feeling everything SO deeply.  I just want to rest.  I wish I could just have a regular life with the usual ups and downs.  I miss being angry that something annoying happened at work or feeling blue because I just dropped my baby off for the day and won't see him until I pick him up at 5.  This longing, this desperation, this lack of control, this lack of relaxation.....it's exhausting, consuming, heartbreaking.  This feeling of missing my child....it makes me sick to my stomach.  I literally woke up last night and thought I was going to throw up.   Is this it?  Is this what I have to look forward to....forever?  It's just too much for any one person and I fear that I am just not up to this task.  I have been woefully unprepared for this much pain.