Five months gone...

Dear Harper bean,

Today we should have been celebrating the 5 month mark of your birth.

I want to say that after 5 months, it's all better. Most days it is.

But then there are Moments.

Like running away to cry after sitting next to a newborn baby (although, I am very happy to say that it is only the newbornest of newborns that triggers tears now; older babies bring me nothing but joy once again.) Or the trickling continuation of "How's the baby?" inquiries I still get now and then. The damn email reminders from Babycenter ("Is your baby sitting up?" "Thinking about teething") that I can't seem to unsubscribe, too. Being excluded from a baby shower, presumably because well-meaning friends are worried about hurting my feelings, but only feeling isolated and sad as a result. The nights when I still feel ghostly baby kicks or have flashbacks to the worst memories of the hospital. I suspect there will always be Moments.

Today, Harper bean, I told your story to a Congressman named Harper. Gregg Harper, a Republican from Mississippi. Although I expect we're politically worlds apart, he did understand; he has a son with Fragile X and knows the pain of an unexpected genetic diagnosis when all you were anticipating was a baby.

"My daughter says she's going to name her child Harper," he told me. "Whether it's a boy or girl."

It is a unisex name, I agreed, sparing him the story of why a unisex name was so important in your case.

As always, it felt liberating to tell your story. I'd rather share my grief and celebrate your life than pretend I don't see your ghost. It seemed like a good way to spend that five month birthday.

Your brother has not forgotten you either. A neighbor recently had an inflatable bounce house at their birthday party. Shea is obsessed now with having one for his next birthday.

"When I have my bounce house party...." is a frequently heard phrase in our house now.

"When I have my bounce house party," Shea began last week, as he and I ate dinner. "I think we should put up lots of pictures of baby Harper so that all my friends could come to my bounce house party and see her."

I stared at him for a moment, tearing up and trying to resist the urge to snatch him and hug the breath out of him. "Shea," I said slowly, "I think that is a lovely idea."

If there is a heaven, I hope it has a bounce house for you, my love.