4 years, 2 months, 19 days....it still hurts.

It's not a nice round number. It's not one year. It's not 18 months. It doesn't matter. For whatever reason, today it hit me, and it hit me hard. I lost my little boy 4 years, 2 months, and 19 days ago. He was supposed to be around 14 weeks strong, but instead I learned he had died nearly 5 weeks earlier. And I will never know why. And if he hadn't died, I wouldn't have Miles. That thought shakes me. For some reason, tonight it hit me hard. I cried, a lot. I miss my boy. And there's a huge part of me that feels like I'm not allowed to feel that way. I don't know why it hit me so hard, probably a combination of all the stress I'm under, but for whatever reason, he was on my mind and I cried. I have gone through some very difficult times, but nothing can come close to losing him. I am so grateful to have Miles and the rest of my family, but it still hurts. A lot. I miss my boy, I know he was a boy. And losing him nearly killed me. I miss my boy. A lot. Always. 💕