Carrying all three

Some days, I honestly don’t know how we did it.

The house feels like it’s bursting at the seams — noise, toys, laundry everywhere, dishes still in the sink.

I’m tired in a way that sleep doesn’t fix.

But somehow, my heart still feels full.

You — my wild, fearless one — keep me on my toes every second.

Questions flying out of your mouth faster than I can answer them.

Running everywhere, climbing on everything, dragging me into your endless games and big plans.

You stretch me thin, but oh, you fill me up too.

You make the day loud and alive and impossible to ignore.

And you — my little one, still so new —

you watch it all unfold, wide-eyed and quiet, like you’re studying your big brother’s every move.

Your eyes follow him like you already know he’s your favorite show.

Your smile comes easy these days, and I find myself doing just about anything to see it.

You’re not in the middle of the action yet, but I see it building in you.

I can feel it coming.

And always, there’s him.

The brother you’ll never get to play with,

but who plays in my mind all the time.

I wonder what it would’ve been like to see all three of you together.

Would he have been the loudest of you all?

Would he have chased after your games, scooped up his baby brother in his arms?

Would you have fought over toys, or piled on the couch together for story time?

Would he have been the one to make you both laugh until your bellies ached?

I’ll never know, but somehow, my heart fills in the blanks anyway.

Because he’s here.

Not in the way I ache for.

Not in the way I dream of at night.

But he’s here — in the middle of the chaos, in the quiet moments too.

In the way I love you harder, deeper, fiercer.

He’s here in the way I savor every kiss goodnight,

every sleepy snuggle,

every silly moment that feels too small to matter, but somehow matters so much.

You have both changed me, stretched me.

Made me softer in some ways, sharper in others.

Some days I’m more patient, some days I’m not.

I raise my voice more than I want to.

I cry in my showers more than I ever thought I would.

But I love you — I love all three of you —

with everything I am.

I miss him.

I carry him.

I celebrate him, even on the days when missing him feels like too much.

And I carry you, too, every single day.

In my arms, in my thoughts, in every breath I take.

I’m still me.

But I’m not the same at all.

I’m someone new.

Because of you.

Because of all of you.

And one day, when you’re old enough to ask,

I’ll tell you all about him —

not just the things I remember,

but the way I still feel him here, with us,

every day.

Always.

Maybe that’s the whole truth of this season:

full arms, full heart, and someone missing who still fills everything.