Outtakes

One thousand, seven hundred and eighty seven.

This is how many photos I have of Caius, all sitting in a little folder on my computer. 1787. This isn't counting the hundreds in the phones and computers of friends and family. I used to prop my little buddy up on blankets and chairs, snapping away trying to capture the perfect shot of him looking up with his big, beautiful eyes or grinning with his two tiny little teeth poking through. Later I would look through all the photos and choose the best ones to send off to family or post on social media.

Since Caius has passed away, I find it both comforting and overwhelming to look at photos of my sweet boy. I look through pictures and remember how happy I was when he was here. I remember the fun we had. I remember how handsome he was. I remember tickling him on his white blanket with the blue stars, laughing along with him as I snapped a picture or two of his chubby little cheeks and bright eyes. 'Cheeky cheeky', I would tease him, as he raised his eyebrows and gave my a sly little smile. More photos. Halloween skeleton costume, Christmas day, matching mom and Caius outfits...photos of them all. The first time Caius sat up by himself, photo. When Clint travelled for work, we'd send him photos. When my parents went away for the Winter, we'd send them photos. When we went on trips, photos. Clint and I would go out for dinner just the two of us and spend the whole time sharing and looking at photos. We loved him so much. So many memories captured.

I recently went through the 'Caius' folder on my computer and looked at every photo, from the first few minutes of his life to the ones I took the evening before he left us. As I got to the last one, I felt a feeling of panic. It suddenly sunk in that I will never add to this folder. There will never be any more photos of Caius. And that makes me so sad. No first birthday, no first day of school, no high school graduation, no wedding photos. Along with the memories that live in our hearts, these photos are all we really have to remind us of Caius' short little life.

But then I remembered the outtakes. The photos I had taken that had never turned out 'just right'. I went through my computer's trash bin and transferred them all to join the rest. When I looked through them a second time, I noticed that even though there were some goofy faces, blurry arms and closed eyes, these photos showed Caius in different lights. They may not have been 'perfect', but they were authentic and genuine. They were Caius.

Life is a series of outtakes. Sometimes you will catch the 'perfect shot' on your first try, but you usually have to try a few times. When we first brought Caius home from the hospital, it was a mix of outtakes and perfect shots. As we tried to navigate through parenthood, there were some things that worked and some that didn't. But we kept the metaphorical camera shooting and got the hang of it. And to be honest some of the outtakes, the not so perfect moments, are some of my favorite memories: when Clint fastened top onesies over Caius' pants so he looked like a mini aerobics instructor from the '80s, when I asked Caius what he thought of my sweater one day and he threw up all over it then laughed, when Caius farted so loud during Workout Wednesday videos that we had to stop filming.

It's so easy to make your life look perfect to the outside world by only showing the 'perfect shots'. It's just not always authentic. I thought Caius was the most beautiful little boy, but there were times when I was frustrated with his colic or when he wouldn't go to sleep. Those are the outtakes, the things we don't want to focus on. But they're also part of who he was, and that's alright. I would have taught Caius to be authentic and true to who he was, so I will embrace all these moments. I don't know 'how' to get through this, 'how' to grieve properly. Some days are better than others, but some are so hard I feel like I am just going through the motions as my brain and heart are with him. But I feel like one day I'll get it right and it will be just a little more bearable. They say, "they're only photos until they're all you've got". Some day I will be strong enough to go through all my 'Caius' folder photos- the outtakes and those perfect shots. Because they're all I've got.

Chantal