Important dates are really hard for anyone who has lost a loved one, so it's no surprise that it would be difficult for a mother who has lost her baby. I know many of you are thinking that with Noah in my life I should be over this, but I cannot help but think about what could (no, SHOULD) have been. In less than two years I have had two babies and yet I am only raising one.
It's really really really really really really hard. REALLY?
I don't know how else to put it.
I spend so much time putting on a happy face for Noah, my family and my friends that often times there is no energy left for myself to openly express how am feeling. So those emotions get shoved into a box and put back in my mind. I have about 6,000 boxes back there, so my mind is literally spilling out with aches and pains.
I just wish I could hold him one last time. One last time while he was still breathing and we were sill so excited about the possibility of him coming home with us. One more chance to stroke his soft downy skin and kiss his teeny tiny fingers. Where did that time even go?
If I seem absent at all from the blog lately it's because I am just trying to process everything. I cannot believe that October 11 & 13 makes it 2 years. I feel so far away from that part of my life, which is a double edged sword. That was such a dark time in my life and I wouldn't want to go back to that pain and sadness, but also a wonderful time in my life because I gave birth to a beautiful and perfect little baby; one whom I will always love and cherish and I wish every moment of every day that I could relive every precious moment with him.
What do you even do with that? How can one person have such polar opposite thoughts?
Guess it will always be this way...
I think that is one of the most difficult things about our memories- they are the most beautiful... and only ones of our children... as well as the most painful. Remembering those feelings separately is so difficult.
ReplyDeleteI wish you peace during the next few weeks- gosh the lead up days are always the most difficult.
Lauren (MomTimesThree from PE foundation ;) )
I'm so sorry, Christa. I wish you had both of your beautiful babies with you.
ReplyDeleteI know what you mean about feeling on edge. Molly's birth/death day (and that I have to even write that is WRONG) is at the end of October, and I'm not sure if we should do something really big and significant or more low key.
I hear you. Love to you, Mason, and Noah. <3
I know... I hate seeing that birth/death combo. It's completely unfair!
DeleteI am still trying to plan something for us to do for those few days because I want to honor Mason in some way, especially since we cannot be in Texas to visit his grave. I really want to make it a ritual, like a real birthday so that even Noah will know this was the day mommy and daddy had their first baby. I don't want it to be hidden, even though it is so difficult and hard to explain. I hope you and your husband can find something to do that perfectly matches your emotions. Something that will honor all of those sweet memories you had with Molly.
For what it's worth, every year on our daughter's birthday we take a mini staycation. It's something so out of the ordinary and it's my hope that her lil' siblings will always look forward to her birthday because we do something so fun on her day. Our son (2) really had a great time on her birthday and still talks about the fun hotel on her birthday.
DeleteI read this today and I thought you might like it...
ReplyDeleteI ONLY WANTED YOU
They say memories are golden
well maybe that is true.
I never wanted memories,
I only wanted you.
A million times I needed you,
a million times I cried.
If love alone could have saved you
you never would have died.
In life I loved you dearly,
In death I love you still.
In my heart you hold a place
no one could ever fill.
If tears could build a stairway
and heartache make a lane,
I'd walk the path to heaven
and bring you back again.
Our family chain is broken,
and nothing seems the same.
But as God calls us one by one,
the chain will link again.
by Vicky Holder