I have two children.

This is something I am getting used to saying. To myself. To others. This is something that would've come naturally without thinking if I had both of my children living, with me, every day.

I was in the bead store the other day fixing the chain that I was given that holds two beautifully simple silver pendants, one with Leo and the other with Max inscribed on them. Another woman was admiring them and asked of their significance. I said proudly, they are my sons. They smiled and then asked their age. I took a quick deep breath, looked at them and said 'one of them is 21 mo old and the other one died'. They said they were sorry and I reassured them that it was O.K., that they didn't know. I left the store, got into my car and softly started to cry. I wondered what they were sorry about. When I say, 'It's OK', am I saying it's OK they asked or it's OK that he died?

I knew I was inviting this question by wearing a necklace with their names on them. I know that the answer will bring discomfort to the person asking. I also know that their unease is not my problem. It feels good to acknowledge both of my sons, not just the living one. I want the world to know about Leo. I want to share him with those that already know about him and those that don't. I want everyone to see that Leo existed. That he is real. I want everyone to see how beautiful he was. I want to feel comfortable saying I have two sons. One of them is living and the other was stillborn and that is OK. That is my story and that is OK. They're both beautiful and they're both with me in their own way. I am a more complete person than I was before Leo.

I am who I am today because I have two sons.