My second child is now older than my first.
I still say, "There's your big brother Miles" as we look at his photo when she looks at each framed photo on our dresser. Miles will always be her big brother yet always a baby. It's just one of the seriously messed-up details that goes along with losing Miles. It's one of the things we deal with--because we have to (there is no other alternative really, is there?). Yes, their ages just crossed. I think of how old he should be, yet he'll always be four and a half months. I need that, I realize. Because all of my memories of him are real; all the thoughts of him from the day he was born until he was four and a half months are real. Imagining how he would be after that is just that--imagining.
Oh, Elliott looks so much like him; she is his four-and-a-half-month old sister...now daily getting further away from being his age and size. Will I ever have such a squeezable, kissable reminder of him? These days are precious. Because we have them with her. And because she reminds us of him.