So, I haven't posted in a while..nothing much has been happening. Work is the same--same people, few customers, which makes for a tedious work environment as there is very little to do while there. Let's see--I came down with some horrible illness the Saturday before last. I had fever over 101 and I haven't had one that high in years. I had forgotten how horrible that is. Quincy came down with what I thought was the same thing Sunday morning, but appparently it isn't, since he has no fever and the pediatrician says it's just congestion/drainage. He sounds bad at night and he still has no teeth. Funny thing---he was sitting on my little sister's lap tonight and usually if he is facing away from you he tries to chew on your knee--well, this time, she had her legs crossed so that her foot was within his reach so he chewed on her foot. It was pretty funny to see.
Monday was Memorial Day. My little sister went to visit the grave of my other son--Quincy's older brother. I used to look at Quincy and think---this is what Christian would have looked like at this age if he had lived and that was true up until a few weeks ago. Christian looked like a mini-version of my father--with lots of very dark hair. Quincy was born with a lot of dark hair, but that has been replaced by a lot of light brown/blondish hair so now I have to think that Christian would have looked distinctly different. I wonder if he would have been happy when his little brother came home from the hospital, happy to play with him. In my head, I can see a little boy with dark hair waving as he went to kindergarten for the first time. That would have been Christian if he were here. I hate that nature robbed him and me of that experience. It makes everything that Quincy does sort of bittersweet, because I am so proud of him, yet a few miles from here lies a little baby boy who never got to do any of the wonderful things Quincy has done so far and will do as he grows. I was so scared when Quincy was born that he wouldn't open his eyes because his older brother never opened his. Quincy's birth was so frightening for me because of that and holding my sweet boy who moved and breathed was very, very different from holding my first son. It's hard not to compare what I am experiencing now with what could have been.