Happy Birthday

18 years ago today, my little brother, Christopher, was born.
18 years ago tomorrow, Christopher passed away.
They never figured out what was wrong with him.
I never got to meet him.

My mom normally cries every year on the few days leading up to May 5th. I normally give her as many hugs as I can on those days. I've never cried on those days before. For some reason, this year is different.

Yesterday I realized that his 18th birthday would be today. For some reason, though it has never felt real to me, this year I feel that sense of loss. What would it be like to have an 18 year old brother right now? I always wanted a sibling growing up, I always longed to feel that special bond that is impossible to have with anyone other than a sibling. Even though I always had a longing, I never felt like I had lost something, that I had lost someone.

I never got to meet Christopher. To this day, my dad regrets that. My mom wanted him to bring me to the hospital, but he was hoping for the best I think. He figured I'd meet him when he was better. He didn't want to scare the little 3 year old me with all of the tubes and wires attached to my baby brother. If he had brought me, I don't know that I would remember it today.

I have only 3 memories involving the pregnancy. One of playing with the toys in the waiting room at the doctor's office in Denver where my mom was getting IVF treatments. One of eating Cheerios at my neighbor's house across the street while my parents were at the hospital. And the final one is while we were burying the ashes of my brother, throwing dirt in the hole and looking up at my crying parents, not really knowing what was going on. I never had much of an emotion attached to these memories, though. They have always just kind of been...there.

I have always believed that just like my Grandpa Svihla, he is watching over me. I like to think that he's not a little baby up in Heaven but that he's grown up with me. I want to see what he'd look like now, what he'd look like all grown up. I hope that he's hanging out with Grandpa, Denali, Patches, Adam and all of Aunt Nancy's dogs. I hope that one day I'll meet him.

Yesterday when I realized what today was, I teared up. When I realized that he would be 18 this year, he would graduate from high school in 3 weeks, he would go to college in the fall, I kind of broke down. I don't know why 18 is a tangible age for me when 13 or 16 weren't. Maybe it's because I have friends who would be his classmates, who he might have even dated or gone to prom with a couple weeks ago. Maybe it's because I'm getting ready to start a family of my own in the next few years. Or maybe I'm just PMSing. Either way, this year it finally hit me. I was never afraid of telling people that I had a brother once, it just didn't feel real until yesterday.

I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, and while some may not make sense at the time, they eventually do. While it may sound selfish, I would never be where I am had Christopher lived. That kills me to say, but at the same time, it's true. I never would have come to New York so many times and definitely would not have moved here for college. I wouldn't be spending the summer living in an expensive apartment or have gone to so many Broadway shows. I wouldn't have been given half of the opportunities I have had. But most importantly, because I wouldn't be in New York, I wouldn't have met James. Had Christopher lived, I would be a completely different person, I'd be living a completely different life.

I know if my parents had had the choice, I would have a brother or a sister. I begged them for one throughout my entire childhood, but I turned out completely fine without one. I was spoiled at times, lonely at others, but I think it also allowed me to be closer with my mom. My mom who I so wish I could hug right now. I love you mommy and daddy...sorry if I made you cry.