My First Born Conner

I have been having vivid dreams about Conner. Some nights I woke up with the biggest smile on my face, feeling like my baby was cuddling with me in our bed again. And some other times, like this morning, I woke up in tears. Last night I had a dream that I had to cremate him. By myself. I now have this awful sinking feeling in my stomach, just like the day I had to say goodbye to him. I haven't been able to stop thinking about Con lately. Maybe it's because Wil and I always talked about what an amazing brother he would be to his unborn siblings. When he died, I felt cheated. He was in every plan I made, and never in my wildest dream could I imagine him taken away so young. He came to me when I was drifting through life aimlessly and gave me a purpose. I was a couple of semesters away from graduating from college. Most of my friends were graduating before me and I was about to be left behind, very much alone. Auburn was the only place that felt like home to me since my move to the States 7 years prior. Then I saw this beautiful puppy. It was as if we had known each other all our lives. From the moment he looked up at me with his soulful pond-scum green eyes, which later turned amber, I knew we were going to be a family. He was the epitome of love that fed me. I had been away from home for so long. I missed the birth of so many little cousins and countless family gatherings, where everyone talked over each other while grandmas and aunts took requests of our favorite dishes that would be feasted over endless afternoons. I craved being loved and fussed over. Like when how grandmas always proclaimed that I was too skinny and immediately shoved a plate of food in my face even before I finished saying hi. Or like how my mom never gave up brushing my hair even though she knew that it would never lay flat. Like how my dad always clipped my fingernails for me because he said that I cut them too short. I knew I was lonely but never knew how much until Conner came along. Life was suddenly busy and joyful. I had someone to love, fed, clip nails for, and brush hair that never pointed in the same direction. I remember shadowing his every move, Kleenex in hand ready to wipe his snotty nose, when Con had his first and only cold at 4 months. We celebrated happy occasions together. Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks from school no longer meant being a hanger-on at family gatherings of some kind friends, who took pity on me, and having to silently suppress my jealousy of their family interactions. My friend Kay said that Conner was an old soul that was in a puppy's body. Everyone who knew him, and us together, knew he was a lot more than a canine. When I started working in Fayetteville, I had some seriously horrendous hours. I couldn't even imagine how hard it was for him, going from us being together 24-7 and getting to visit the park and his friends all the time to suddenly spending at least 12-15 hours at a time alone. But he was always a trooper. He would tell me about his day. Some of you had seen him "talk." We could have a full blown conversation well into the night, after our long walk and lots of frisbee run. Almost everyday, neighborhood kids would come knocking on the door asking if Con could come out and play. He was a perfect babysitter. And somehow he knew to check on our little neighbor, who had Down Syndrome, after every lap he run with other rambunctious kids. He would stop to lick her on the cheek, which sent her into a fit of giggles. It was always the highlight of our day. Wil always said that he knew that we would be together pretty much immediately, but Conner was the deal sweetener. I never felt worst than when Wil was away in Iraq. Every night Con and I would huddle together in bed and brace ourselves for the evening news. He would lick the tears from my face, trying to comfort me in his own way. I only wish I could explain to him where his dad was. For that whole long year, I could see his little heart leaping with joy every time he saw a truck from our window. I could write and write for the rest of my days about the love of my life that was Conner. There will never be enough space in this vast internet to store the memories of his every look and sound. He was my child as much as this one I'm carrying in my womb. I'm glad the baby will be born sometimes in April. We lost Conner on April 10, 2006. This past April, I felt like a big rain cloud hovering over my head. It will be nice to be able to celebrate a birth in his memory. For the first time in my life, I want to whole-heartedly believe in reincarnation. I ache for Con. Sorry, Drew and Amanda, if the baby comes out and looks up at me with pond-scum green eyes, that would later turn amber, we will need to have another Conner in our family. Just a different spelling.