Myles turns one year old next Thursday and I've got all the hallmark mommy sentimentality to spew forth in the next few days as I rightly should. What I didn't expect...what I'm kicking myself for not anticipating...is the resurgence of grief that comes with these milestones.
I'm fairly used to the every day stuff by now...the smiles where I wonder if his brothers would have looked like him...the screech that I don't wish too hard would stop...the packing away of now-outgrown clothes that were actually purchased for another child. Those moments are like tiny little arrows that prick at calloused skin but don't puncture through (anymore). But as the major milestones happen, like first birthdays, it's like somebody is taking a pick axe to my heart.
I read this over at Glow in the Woods...and I was shocked to find myself at peace with the knowledge that someone gets it.
There are days that are darker than others. I want to call the office and be free to say, “Sorry, but I just can’t do it. It’s all meaningless don’t you see, because today I’ll be useless to anyone but her. She’s dead and I can’t bear to wash my hair and I really just need to stay at home to be with her.” I start to cry in the shower and hate the world for expecting me to stop and get on with it. The only her left for me to be with is not one anyone else understands.
The thing is, I know I'm not alone. But as time moves on and life drags me forward, I FEEL alone. I feel as though I'm supposed to hide Alex and Travis away in a closet and not let their absence affect my every day life. I'm not supposed to spend time with them. I'm supposed to be grateful for what I have, not mourn what I've lost.
But these days...these days that hurt so much I want to howl in pain again...these days still come around. And I know it's no coincidence that they come around gleefully dancing hand-in-hand with the happy days. First birthday happiness? Meet my partner, glaring emptiness and sadness. I can't have one without the other. Not anymore. Probably never again.
Of course I know it's normal deadbabymama stuff...routine for those who travel in these circles...and I should have planned for it because I really really really don't want it to ruin the day. I need to focus on the living. Even when I hear the dead calling me to spend time with them.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Mom
My mom insisted on living independently. She wanted to live in the two-story house she and my dad built in the 70s, despite the fact that da...
-
"Unfortunately, honey, the baby is no longer alive.". -Ultrasound doctor
-
When I was 18 years old, I wasn't paying attention while driving and I crashed my parents' van into a cruck (car with a truck bed) t...
-
Hi Everyone, this is Cathy's husband Stephen. I am proud to announce that Myles Fisher entered the world this afternoon at 3:51 PM He ...
9 comments:
I get it. This happens to me too. And you know, it might keep happening, or it might not. You never know.
Plan for it? How in God's name do you plan for something so totally painful and totally unavoidable? Now and again, when I watch the boys, Alex pops up in my heart and my head. It's always a jolt and never a pleasant longing. It's so futile to wish something that's irreversible but it happens to me all the time. Travis' little body small, light weight in my arms, a pain I cannot deny when I think about it. Nope, no planning can block those feelings when they come on so suddenly. Two little lives have passed and are beyond out reach, but never ever will they be beyond my heart.
Mom
Nothing profound or helpful to say--just some hugs to give you.
So complicated. I'm here, too. **sigh**
Just want to give you a big ((((hug))))
Spend time with them. Always.
I sometimes feel this incredible guilt that I seem to have almost forgotten my twins, that they don't seem like they ever existed...
I don't think you can plan for those moments - even when you know full well they're probably coming.
The longer I live in sorrow, the more I understand that it has a will of its own and my role is to ride along with it and let it be what it is - it's the only way for me to feel like I have any control over it. If that makes any sense at all...
I'm sorry there is always dark with the light. I hate it for you, for me - for all of us.
(((((HUGS)))))
I don't know how one could prepare for it, but I do hope that you were able to take the time.
Sorrow does what the sorrow needs to do, but I do find that I can roll with it a little better if I make the time to let it do what it must.
Post a Comment