I just couldn't go there this year. Oct 15, National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance day. Usually I write something. Usually I make sure others around me have the little reminder.
I just couldn't do it this year.The heartache we've felt this year. The disruption in our family life in almost every single aspect. The birth of your youngest baby brother.
That doesn't mean I've forgotten. That doesn't mean I still wonder about the child you would be. Were you my baby girl? The one I see in my dreams. The blonde hair. The big blue eyes. Are your eyelashes as long as your brother's? The tan toddler arms that run into a little chubby roll just before your soothing hands. Would you like school as much as your big brother does? Oh what I wouldn't give to see you with him.
You are the one I see with the sunlight glowing through your hair. Your smiling face peaks over your shoulder while you run from us carefree and happy. You're not physically here. I can't feel your physical touch. Your loving kisses and tight hugs. But you are the deepest part of me. The one that makes me dig to find myself the one that gives me assurance that my worries have no merit.
A glance at a quilt. The reminder of the shirt that hangs in my closet. The thoughts of the day we heard the news. The emotions; the pain, the guilt, the tears.
But I see you. There in my dreams. I still feel you when I allow myself to go there. I see your painted nails around your daddy's neck while your glimmering ear touches his. I hear your whispers when I get overwhelmed and lose perspective. It could all be taken away.
You remain perfect. Untouched. Happy. Pure. You remain in my heart. You know an existence far greater than we can even comprehend.
And yet I find myself going there anyway. It's important. It hurts. It brings back emotions I have buried. But I have to. I have to feel that pain, remember the jumps for joy when we announced you were coming and the news that it wouldn't be. I have to let it run through my veins in hopes I will never forget. Never let you down.
In hopes to be a mommy you would be proud to claim even amongst the company you keep.
I just couldn't do it this year.The heartache we've felt this year. The disruption in our family life in almost every single aspect. The birth of your youngest baby brother.
That doesn't mean I've forgotten. That doesn't mean I still wonder about the child you would be. Were you my baby girl? The one I see in my dreams. The blonde hair. The big blue eyes. Are your eyelashes as long as your brother's? The tan toddler arms that run into a little chubby roll just before your soothing hands. Would you like school as much as your big brother does? Oh what I wouldn't give to see you with him.
You are the one I see with the sunlight glowing through your hair. Your smiling face peaks over your shoulder while you run from us carefree and happy. You're not physically here. I can't feel your physical touch. Your loving kisses and tight hugs. But you are the deepest part of me. The one that makes me dig to find myself the one that gives me assurance that my worries have no merit.
A glance at a quilt. The reminder of the shirt that hangs in my closet. The thoughts of the day we heard the news. The emotions; the pain, the guilt, the tears.
But I see you. There in my dreams. I still feel you when I allow myself to go there. I see your painted nails around your daddy's neck while your glimmering ear touches his. I hear your whispers when I get overwhelmed and lose perspective. It could all be taken away.
You remain perfect. Untouched. Happy. Pure. You remain in my heart. You know an existence far greater than we can even comprehend.
And yet I find myself going there anyway. It's important. It hurts. It brings back emotions I have buried. But I have to. I have to feel that pain, remember the jumps for joy when we announced you were coming and the news that it wouldn't be. I have to let it run through my veins in hopes I will never forget. Never let you down.
In hopes to be a mommy you would be proud to claim even amongst the company you keep.
Oh your heart.
ReplyDeleteSo much love to you.
So much.
I am sending you so much love.
ReplyDeleteSuch a brave and honest post, my beautiful friend.
xoxo
Oh, girl.
ReplyDeleteI have no words.
Just sending you lots of love.
This is so beautifully written. Gave me chills. I don't know what to say other than I am sorry.
ReplyDeleteOh my. This is so beautiful. I feel like I wrote it myself. I often think about the child I lost, that I will never know. But I then wonder if I would not have had my daughter, because we would have been finished after two. So I am grateful for her, and grateful for the love and the memory of the baby I lost.
ReplyDeleteStopping by from PYHO.
This is such a sweet tribute to your sweet angel baby. I don't think the pain ever fully goes away. It's still hard for me, even years later.
ReplyDeleteSending many hugs to you....as another mom who understands.
Very beautiful, I feel like you were in my soul when you wrote this.
ReplyDeleteThank You.