Tattoos

Tattoos. You either love them or hate them.  If you hate them that’s totally fine, I won’t be offended (although, I hope you aren’t someone that immediately passes judgment when you see a person with tattoos).

I love them.

Sure, you have the people that don’t necessarily make the best judgment when getting tattoos. But to me, tattoos tell a story. It may just be a butterfly on someone’s ankle to you, but to that person it could be a memorial tattoo because at their daughter’s funeral there was a beautiful butterfly circling the gravesite. Or, maybe they got it for no reason other than they liked it! Either way, tattoos commemorate a special time, place or person in someone’s life.

I have two tattoos. The first I got with two of my best friends from high school, the summer after my freshman year of college. About four years ago, my best friend and I went together and got new ones. Actually, I added on to my first one. It's in a place you can’t see (unless I decide to moon you) so most people don’t know I have it!  To look at these, you would see a butterfly and a flower, but to me they represent friendship and love.
 

Here is my newest one:

This was taken right after, so it is a little blurry still.

I. LOVE. IT.  It makes me so happy. It is an exact replica of Joey’s footprints. People may look at this and wonder why I got it. Well here is why:

Most people get to bring their children home. They get to spend every day for the rest of their lives looking at their children, holding them, touching them and talking to them. With Joey, I don’t get that. If I want to look at him, I have to open his scrapbook and flip through the pages. Short of taking his scrapbook everywhere I go, if I want to be reminded of him (and I am not at home), I can’t.
 

Having his footprints on my foot allows me to be reminded of him whenever I want. I can rub it and it’s like I am actually touching his sweet tiny toes. It has probably been the most healing part of the last few months. I got the idea the moment I saw his footprints on the paper, when we were still in the hospital.  Even then, only hours after saying goodbye to him, I smiled looking at those precious little feet. In fact, I think it was the first time Rik and I had smiled in over a week. 

I decided not to get it in the midst of my grieving because I didn’t want to regret it. Tattoos are kind of forever. Well, unless you want to pay a ton of money and go through the painful removal process. I said that if after six months I still wanted it, I was getting it. Fast forward seven months and I wanted it more than ever.

After a short 30 minutes with Rik by my side, Joey (and his footprints) will take every step with me for the rest of my life!