The day she was born was an impossible day. It brought back all the hurt, all the depth of pain, all the memories of losing him… It brought back the memories I never had- first cry, seeing the color of his eyes, putting him to breast, doting over tiny fingers that wrapped tightly around mine… Memories lost, before they were found.
I think I cried as many tears as I did that first day. (Maybe not, but it felt like it)
The pain resurfaced at full force and tore me apart like a lion to a man. My heart broke so much that my chest actually felt physical pain. The darkness not only crept in but swarmed me and overtook the little bit of light within me. I tried to sit and watch television to block the thoughts, the memories, the losses out- but to no true avail.
She was in my head, always. And so was he.
My husband tried to help, even went to the store and got me ice cream, complete with a spoon. But it didn’t taste the same. It couldn’t fix this. I sent it away and back to the freezer. Not even ice cream could fix this. Not even ice cream could ease this pain.
He asked what he could do. All I could say was “turn back time” or “make this not happen”. I saw how sad his eyes were for me. I knew those eyes. Eyes that looked at me the same way 7 1/2months ago. There was nothing he- or anyone- could do.
It hurt us both.
It just hurt too bad.
What do you do when the pain is this bad? When it floods you like it did in those first moments? How do you cope?
I wish there was a simple answer.
I wish I could set these feelings aside and be happy for them,truly happy.
Truth be told, I wish I could feel truly happy about anything, really. So many things are just “going through the motions” these days.
Except this- this I feel with my whole being. Unbearable, heart wrenching, catastrophic pain.
I miss my son. Deeply, fully, without fail- yes, even in his death.
Some kind people try to tell me that they see him as of equal value to this child. That they loved these two babies the same. Tried to point out that he has a purpose too, just not here in physical form on earth.
These words, though kind and probably true- don’t help an aching heart. They don’t heal. Sometimes I even scoff at them, wondering how they could be true. My aching heart wants to hold my little boy in my arms. I ache to raise him, to watch him grow and learn. But I won’t get to. That chance has passed and will never return. This mama will get to.
I didn’t just lose my baby. I lost his first cry, our first smiles as a family of 6, the first holidays with him, first days of school, first day of driving, first…everything. I lost his entire life.
And in moments like these, knowing he gained in heaven while I lost him here- doesn’t bring the comfort I wish it would. It doesn’t “fix” anything. It can’t ease the pain of an aching heart.
Sometimes, I just have to hurt.
Others who have walked this path before- having a family member become pregnant or give birth close to the time of their loss- tell me that they found it to be one of the hardest days of their life as well. Because, to me, it’s a little child that I will watch grow up and hit those milestones… While thinking of how my son will not. I won’t be able to escape from it.
This child’s life will force me to deal with my sons loss.
My heart isn’t ready for that. Even 7 1/2 months out, some days I still dream that it never happened, some days I wish and hope that he was still here with me. Most days, I wish it was all a bad dream, and I could wake up. I’m not ready for him to be gone forever on this earth. I’m just not ready.
Today is an impossible day. A day that I wish I don’t have to live through. But I do. I cope as well as I can. I try my best, like all he other days, and I try to let God handle the test for me.
Because where I can’t, He can.