Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Everyday

Let's call him Oakley Alexander. 

That was the name that Chris and the baby's mother chose for him when she promised to never take him from our lives. I'm guessing she chose another name when she decided to break that promise and decided not to allow him to have any voluntary relationship with our family. But until a judge and some law (that we are yet to have on our side) make her give Chris his son to hold and introduce him by the name that she's given him I'll just call him Oakley.

I wasn't a fan of the name at first. Now, I'd give just about anything if that was his name because Chris chose it. It's original and memorable just like my son's baby will be.

She changed her phone number and has only given us an email to contact her. We don't know if she lives in the same place that she did when Chris dated her but we'll be sending any court papers to that address because THE COURT WILL BE INVOLVED.

Lawyers are expensive and I've researched IN. GREAT. DETAIL. the rights of a unmarried, biological father. I can only hope that what an attorney goes to school for, for many years I'm able to replicate in some form when he completes the forms and takes them to the clerk of court in our county.

I've sent her emails everyday since Oakley was born. Asking if he's healthy. Is he sleeping well? Does he look like Chris? Not to harass her but to know who my grandson is. She hasn't replied to any of them but I'll continue to send them anyway.

I refuse to mourn a child who is alive! He may not have the name Chris chose and he may bond with our family several months from now (from what I've read, the court takes a looooong time) but someday he will know how much he's loved.

Until we meet sweet boy, I love you to the moon and back!

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Baby Boy

Dearest Sweet Baby Boy,

You were born just shy of 34 hours ago. You didn't know it, of course, but when you took that first breath my heart filled with such love. No, that's not true. I loved you before you were sent from heaven to be my first grandson. I've waited my entire life to be your Gramma!

For reasons and circumstances that none of our family understand we weren't permitted to be there to witness your grand entry. The tears that dripped down my cheeks just to know you were here, on Earth so close to us but still so far away pale in comparison to the emotions that your daddy tried valiantly to hold inside. I saw the tears that slid quietly from his eyes as he wiped at them trying unsuccessfully to hide his sadness at not watching you search his face for the comfort that only a daddy can provide.

How much to you weigh? Are you tiny like your father was? He was a little bundle of 5 pounds, 6 ounces but long at 21 inches. Do you have his brown eyes and downy hair that was barely visible?  I doubt that your mother gave you the name that was chosen all those months ago when we found out you were due in January. Your middle name was to be Alexander after your Great Grandfather David Alexander Pittman. You won't remember as you get older but I'm certain that he held you in heaven before you were delivered to our world. Did he whisper how lucky you'd be that GiGi would be your Great Grandma and that our family is a little overwhelming at times? Or did he just tell you to fish when you get older, because fishing was something he would have taught you while you were probably too small to learn?

Someday sweet angel we will meet and you will be part of our crazy, loving family. Your daddy can't wait to hold you and assure you that you will always be safe with him. We'll wait as long as we have to BUT never doubt that the places in our entire families hearts has a baby boy shaped space that you will fill perfectly.....someday.

I love you to the moon and back,

Gramma

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

Angry

I've been trying to bury this debilitating feeling for months now.

This is the eve of the due date for the baby boy that will share my history, my very DNA. The baby that I may never know is even born.

It's, for lack of a more descriptive word, anger.

Anger that I'm allowing myself to find less joy in the baby girl that my nephews beautiful wife will have in a couple of weeks. An event that will probably always remind me of the potential birthday of my oldest child's son. A son who deserves to call Chris daddy and know how very much he is loved by an invisible family.

Anger and sadness that overshadows the magical and nearly miraculous pregnancy of my precious niece. A niece who is my heart, the daughter I couldn't give birth to. The sweetest mommy-to-be who I am over the moon happy for but who reminds me that I'm just an aunt not a gramma.

I'm angry at the women who is keeping me from fully participating is all of these wonderful events because of a selfishness that I will never understand. I want so badly for my heart to be as full as it should be.

Loving my great nieces will be easy (I already do)!

I'm searching desperately for the faith that I'll be able to replacing this deep, soul crushing pain and anger with something much more healthy.

In the mean time I'll smile through the tears and celebrate each moment that they allow me to share. Because each moment will be a gift that I can't repay.