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Thursday, November 3, 2011


Little baby, so small, so perfect. I look down at your sleeping face as you lay cradled in my arms. Your sapphire blue eyes closed; your downy hair and soft cheek pressed against me. Your tiny hand wrapped around my finger. You are everything to us. So much so that it is hard to imagine that you have only been here on this earth, with us, for nine months. The other day you fell asleep on our bed. Your Papa and I watched you sleep. Occasionally you would wake up, lift your head, look at us and smile, and then lay your head down and go back to sleep. Just when we think we couldn't possibly love you more, you steal our hearts all over again.

When you are awake, I see in you the beginnings of who you will be - your sweet, loving, cuddly side; your determination to go after and get what you want; your temper. Yes, at nine months you have a temper. You also have a sense of humor and laugh when you see that we are charmed by something you have done. And you are smart. So smart. You watch us and imitate sounds we make. You even try to repeat words. Very basic simple words but the beginning of words nonetheless. You were so pleased with yourself when you looked at your Papa and said "pah pah" - almost as pleased as your Papa was. Some day you will master "Nana" and I will be beside myself with joy.

Today has been a difficult day for both of us. You have the beginnings of a cold and aren't feeling well. You've never been sick before and you are a very unhappy little boy. Tonight you didn't want to go to bed. You just want to be held and comforted. At long last you have finally settle down in my arms and fallen asleep. I dare not move incase my movements cause you to wake up.

As I sit with you in this dimly lit nursery looking down at you and marveling at the wonder that is you, I am reminded of another baby long ago that I held in my arms just as I now hold you. Another baby so small and so perfect. I remember wondering and worrying about all the things I needed to teach him to give him all the tools he would need to not only succeed in life but to become a loving, caring, compassionate man ... to love God and respect his fellow man. God puts a lot of faith in us when He gives us a child - a lot of faith and a lot of responsibility.

I remember so clearly watching him go from being a sweet baby to becoming a sweet little curly-haired, dimpled boy. He, too, was so full of charm and personality. So happy, so loving. He was my little boy. As the years passed, he became a school boy, then a teenager, and finally a young man finding his place in the world. We had our trials during his teenage years but he became a fine, independent young man. His own person - just as you will. But regardless of his age he was always "my boy". Neither circumstance nor time will ever change that.

When I began this journey in January 2010, I thought my relationship with my son was unique. No one had every felt about their child the way I felt about mine. No one had ever shared the same magical moments with their child/children as I had. No one else had sprinkled their children's lives with fairy dust and taught them to fly.

I was both sad and happy to learn I was wrong. Happy because others had the same joy with their child as I had had with mine; and sad because I realized their pain was as real and every bit as deep as my own.

For all mothers and fathers everywhere that have shared the wonder and magic of childhood with their child, I would like to share this poem written by Patsy Gaut.

When Was The

When was the last time I tucked
you in tight? The last time I held
YOU in the middle of the night?
Or read you a story of pirates and
Kings or COWBOYS and dragons
and fairies with WINGS?

When was the last TIME I dried
your sad TEARS? When was the
last time ... Has it been years? A
MOTHER recalls first times but last
times may fade, so I'll cherish these
moments and the MEMORIES

So I'm remembering the last time
we stood in the RAIN and counted
the cars on a choo-choo train.
Leaving a note for SANTA to see
And your wide eyed wonder of our

If I could have last times just once
again I'd WRITE them all down
with paper and pen and read when
I'm old of those SWEET precious
times we sat on your bed and read
NURSERY rhymes.

You would throw kisses to the
man in the MOON, my little one
you've grown up too soon.
So I'll search my dreams and SWEET
memories I'll find, as you close the
DOOR and leave a BABY behind.

I thought my sweet boy and I would have years and years and years together. That we would watch his own boys grow up and have families of their own. I thought that we would continue to make memories and have cherished moments together; but at 31 years of age he was gone and I was left with an enormous hole in my heart.

I thought that I would never be happy again; but then you came along little Christian and filled my days with happiness and excitement as I watch you grow and develop new skills. I will not try to make you him. I will not try to substitute you for him. You are NOT Christian Sean Jorgensen. You are Christian Michael Jorgensen born on January 27, 2011. You are beautiful and you are perfect. You will always be entirely and uniquely you. You will be loved greatly and cherished every day of your life so sleep well my little one. Tomorrow is another day.

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