Dear Andrew,

We are only a couple days away from five months of losing you.

The other day I was cleaning your room and trying to organize the mess that is your crib.  I went to put your memory box in the drawer under your crib and  my breathe caught in my throat.  All of your little 6-9 month clothes were sitting there, unused where I had left them after they were washed.  You should be wearing those little baseball footie pjs right now.  You should be in your vibrating chair, playing with the little mobile on your crib, and being read that big stack of books we bought you.  Instead, I go in there to dust your room and cry and hold your clothes.  We still have the clothes you wore in the hospital but I haven't been able to hold those.  They are still stained from you wearing them and I can't stand the thought of anything happening to them.  They are nearly as precious as your hair and footprints and pictures.

So all of the emotion of the past five months hit me in that one moment where I sat on your floor and sobbed for you and the future that we won't have with you.  Thankfully your father was in the other room watching football and couldn't hear me.  It upsets him so much to see me so distraught and he's having a very hard time without you too.

On the really bad days I cuddle with your bear.  It weighs exactly the same as when you were born (8 pounds 15 ounces) and cuddles right into my shoulder.  On the days that I can manage to move and not be frozen with grief your bear sits in your little frog chair with the bear that has been on your grave the past few months.  But it was filthy and needed to be washed.  I will return it to you at some point but it's also nice having something that was close to you for so long in our house.

I love you and miss you.