2 years

Can it really be 2 years since my Molly was born?

I glance at Will and watch as he struggles to breathe. It's a little bit ironic to be here in the hospital as Will fights the nasty effects of pneumonia as I'm thinking of my Molly's lost battle with this brutal sickness.

A part of me, of course, wonders, "Is this the end for him?" After all, we've seen this before and it didn't turn out. I try to ward off anymore negative thinking and blanket my mind with warm thoughts.

It doesn't seem to be working at the moment.

Will's alarm goes off and I glance at the sat monitor. He's on high flow oxygen and his little body fights for each raspy breath. His alarm stops beeping as he fights just a little bit harder.

I glance at the other equipment surrounding his metal crib. IV pole with fluids, feeding pump, the infamous "blue bag", and suction tubes snake out of the wall, with their never ending noise.

I take everything in and am startled to realize how familiar and "normal" it all seems. Sad, but true.

My mind wanders back to Molly and I feel a small pang in the middle of my chest. It's amazing how intense the ache can be, even after 2 years, and even though I'm holding another baby. I think that's one of the misconceptions of losing a baby. I love all my children completely, intensely, individually. Just like every mother does.

Today is Molly's birthday. Today my baby girl would've been 2 years old. And today, I ask my Molly to watch over Will, to be his guardian angel.

I can think of no greater thing for Will than to have his big sister by his side as he fights the same illness that took her home.

Happy birthday, sweet one.