This was my baby and his typical attire on his way to school.
Today marked the last day of school for kids in Irvine; his classmates just became seniors.
Tanner would have been a senior.
I’m watching all of the exciting announcements about how grown-up our babies are… how time has flown… how excited all of my mom-friends are for this next year of their children’s lives.
Ruling the school.
Senior prom.
First dates.
Graduation.
Caps and gowns.
The last week — leading up to the end of the year and the beginning of summer — has been especially brutal. Certain things catch me off-guard that I don’t expect. While I knew missing his senior year milestones would be heartbreaking, I didn’t expect to be hit so hard by my friends celebrating their kids’ transition to seniors.
They should celebrate. It is exciting. Many of us have watched our kids grow together since elementary school.
But my baby isn’t here. He’s gone and shouldn’t be. We should be getting excited right along with everyone else… I’m beginning to really have to face that my dreams for him are over.
There will be no prom, no tux with a tie to match his date’s.
There will be no first date.
There will be no pomp and circumstance.
There will be no more firsts.
Swear to God I’m trying. I’m up and I’m moving. I’m going through as many motions as I can before I just beg my world for an hour hiding in bed.
Sunday will be two months since I lost my Tanner and in so many ways it feels like it was just yesterday and a lifetime ago all at once.
Living without my baby…
Accepting that he is gone forever…
Giving up my hopes and my dreams for him…
I honestly don’t know how moms survive losing their babies.
God, please help me now.
.
.
.
Tanner, my baby, my heart and soul, I love you. Your mom-mom misses you so much. I hope you’re happy and healed and dancing to the most joyful sounds. 
