Magical Thinking

I hold the doggy and blankie close. So close. Imagining you boys holding your doggy and blankie close in your tiny white coffins. I think that if I hug tight enough, or feel the warmth and softnes of the texture on my cheek, or bring back the magical feeling from that day in the toy store, that you will feel me holding you...that you will be here and I will be able to feel you in my arms again. If I just squeeze a little bit more, or wrap my arms just so, then you will appear and look up at me and make this vast emptiness go away. You will wrap your little hands around mine and we will rock and snuggle and fall into blissful sleep together as mother and baby should. If I could just capture enough of that warmth, then you would have to come back to share it with me. My belly wouldn't be empty, my heart wouldn't be broken, and my arms wouldn't ache to hold you anymore...because you would be here...safe with me. If I could just hug this doggy tight enough. You would have to be here with us...laughing and learning and growing into the personality shaped by your one year of experiences. If I could just hold this blanket just right...then you would still be inside of me, growing and wiggling. In my mind, you would be safe inside me...part of me...I could protect you this time. This doggy and this blankie connect the three of us, but it's not enough. I have to do something different to bring you back to me. I have to. I can't live like this...holding onto fabric and stuffing. Do you feel the same things I feel? I know you don't. I know there is no warmth when you hold your doggy and your blankie. I know that your little hands don't pull at the fabric and snuggle in. I know that you lie there, motionless...lifeless. There is no magic. So I rub the fabric on my cheek and wish...dream...that you could feel it too. That I could tickle your skin with the softness. That I could wrap you in the warmth. That I could bring you back and make you stay.