I'm jealous that you have him or her. That child that exhausts you. That child that pushes you. That child who is louder, who is more sensitive, who makes you question your ability to mother, who give you sleepless nights and showerless days, and a house that looks like its ready to be condemned.
Comparison is the thief of joy. Comparing my loss to your struggle is silly and stupid and I shouldn't do it. But I so wish, I so so so so wish I could have your struggle instead of mine. I so wish Bram was here to push me, to test me, to do all the ridiculous messy insanity inducing things that children of all abilities are capable of doing to their parents.
I'm jealous your child is still here, and all the opportunities I had left with Bram are gone. Never again will he be here to get in trouble, to make my heart jump in my throat, to treat me as a jungle gym, to scream at the top of his lungs, to test my limits, to break my heart, to melt my heart, to hold my hand, to hug me tight, to kiss me, to giggle.
I'm sorry for the struggles you face, they are valid, they are real, and you deserve support. But oh how I wish I could have your struggle instead of mine.