There is so much to say. So many thoughts and emotions swirling around like the first gentle snowfall of the season outside my hospital room window.
I was so scared that he wouldn't make it out into the world alive. But that was easy compared to what came next...and what continues to come.
I faced the very real possibility that fear would dictate my decisions...that I would ultimately hurt him out in this world anyway. I didn't want that responsibility. Luckily, I trusted my doctor with everything in me and I felt reasonably safe in allowing him, and his associates, to make the decision that early delivery was the best idea. In this, I was mercifully granted a reprieve from responsibility. I was allowed to be swept along in my fear...leaving them with their expertise at the helm of my ship. I have never felt more cowardly or more unsure. I feel guilty about that.
But that was just the beginning. How strange...to have that first time mom feeling even though I have some experience in this role of mother. I wasn't prepared to feel THIS inadequate...this undeserving...this lost. My role has been defined for me for the last two years and I have, if I do say so myself, gotten pretty good at playing my part. But now there is something different...something more...something less...than what I was before.
It would seem that the hole would get smaller with the addition of a new baby. But if I'm honest with myself, it has gotten quite a bit larger...that space where Alex was supposed to be. All those unrealized hopes and dreams...for all of us.
Sam is a completely different child now. Five years old and already hardened a bit by the realities of life and death. No longer dreaming of sharing his toys and making space on the bed for the baby to share. Now remembering those that didn't come home and trying his best to put all the pieces together into something that makes sense.
All the old questions are back. Is this real? Did we just get lucky this time? Did we do something to deserve losing two years to grief? What could we possibly have done to deserve losing two much-loved babies before this one?
The words I didn't have the courage to say before now. Surely, the universe couldn't be so cruel as to take three babies from us. Almost comical now in their affirmation of a "happy ending." But I know better. I know that life balances precariously on the head of a pin for all of us. And the best we can do is hope that we're one of the lucky ones.