Dear Maddox,
You would be 3 months old today. According to, well, the internet, that means you would be staring at my face intently (you shouldn’t do that…sometimes I look weird), swiping at objects and smiling. Man, I really wish I would have been able to see you smile. It would have been the absolute best thing in the entire world.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about the ways my life has changed these last 3 months. Three months is a long time. I completed Couch 2 5K, threw myself back into my work, worked a lot on rebuilding my physical strength hoping it will help me be emotionally strong, and tried to give the illusion of a living a normal life.
I worry that people will start to forget you. That it will become (even more) socially unacceptable to talk about you, your life and my time with you. That’s one of the most heartbreaking things about losing your child. They are still your world and you want to talk about only them 24/7. But when you look into someone’s eyes as you talk about your baby that is no longer here, you can sense the immediate discomfort. You know they feel like they don’t know what to say, that they wish you would change the subject because they feel too uncomfortable to change the subject themselves.
I want to live in a world where I can talk (and brag!) about you with reckless abandon. I want to climb on the rooftop and scream to the world about your life, the difference you’ve made and how much you matter.
On the 2nd of each month, I try to think of ways I can honor you. Your life, what you’ve given me.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about making myself the best possible version of myself. You deserve only the very best and, as your mom, I should be the best version of me.
So I promise to keep fighting, no matter how badly I want to give up. I promise to keep working on humility, checking my ego and always striving for more. And I promise to (try to) only compare myself to, well, me. Because that’s something I totally suck at.
Also, I promise to keep talking about you. No matter how people react. Because you are more important than every other human in my life combined and nothing has brought me more joy than being your mother.
xo friend. Maddox is lucky to have you as his mom.
Thank you, Ari, for keeping on sharing. Yiur words help me even 7 years on!
I can feel the love you have for your son radiating from every word in this post. I do not know you, but I am crying with you now. I am so sorry. This is not how it should be. You should not be writing this post instead of smiling back at him. I cannot make sense of these things, personally. But I am in awe with your ability to take the most painful grief one can experience and turn it into strength. I had a pregnancy loss many years ago and I still think about that baby often, and their would-be milestones, even after having other children. Know that others are thinking of you and Maddox, and he will not be forgotten. Please, talk and write about him.
Ari I admire you and your fighting spirit. Don’t ever stop talking about Maddox, he is an amazing boy and so lucky to have you as his mom.
e
Cheers to 3 months of memories. Love you, love Maddox. He will forever be a cutie booty. ❤️