Not Over It
I guarantee you will never hear a parent ever say “I am over it.”
I would like to start by saying yes there are bright points in each day. I do want to give the impression that I am sullen all the time. Although, many +++ times though out the day something will trigger a memory. I am blessed to have such memories. I realize as a mother that not all of us do. But within each of these memories is the sense of loss, the longing for what can never be.
Last evening, my husband and I had plans to go to the movies. We stopped at the store before hand to pickup some items as a storm was due for today. I am planning what cake I will make for us to celebrate our son’s birthday. I need a couple of items as well as an Easter Present for my husband. This brought us to the toy aisle. I am looking for a couple of cars and a piece of equipment to make a construction cake.. Also, I need something to finish up the Easter arrangement for his grave. As I am looking up and down the aisle, checking each shelf. Everything there becomes blurry. All I can see in front of me is the vision of what my son should look like. Blue or perhaps his eyes would have turned green like his father’s. Maybe they would still be like mine and change color with his mood. Feisty little munchkin terrorizing our pets and loving every minute of it. His hair was light brown but had tints of red like mine when I was a child. Perhaps now it would have been curly knots like his father’s used to be. Visions of him eating chocolate cake on his 2nd birthday. Opening presents and giggling. Saying Mommy. Now I am crying. There is another Mother and her son in the aisle. I have to get out. I turn, my husband is behind me blocking the aisle. I am like “Go NOW. I need to get out of here.” Fear has taken over.
We get to the car and I lose it. We sit in the parking lot as I break down. Many do not understand. This is our entire life. Our infertility, our son, losing our son, our future, Us. I say to my husband. “What do we do? What if this is it? Time is running out for us? What if that is the only child we are able to have? Are you going to be ok with me? Am I enough. Are we enough. Just he and I. What will we do with ourselves?” This is not the future I saw on our wedding day. This is not what I had planned for the love of my life. I realize that we have no control over the future and all we can do is just be the person and love our spouse needs. But deep down you feel that sense of failure, that sense of loss. How do you make it right for them? I know in my heart that he is my forever. I knew that the day I met him. On my wedding day, I was 19 minutes late walking down the aisle. I spent 10 of these minutes standing on the church steps holding my flowers, while my Matron of Honor held the train of my dress. I spent these 10 minutes crying. No these were not tears of sorrow. They were tears of joy, tears of fear. I was committing my love and my life to the love of my life. I was promising that from this very moment forward he was my number one. Not a job I take lightly. Not one that I wish to fail.
As his birthday draws closer, more and more memories flood in. Not that they are not always there in your mind and heart. But the dates and the times have more meaning when they are close and current.
I have not shared at lot of our experience in the hospital. There are lots of very happy and special moments. Yes, there are a lot of very sad and tragic ones as well.
This is a photo of the first time I fed my son. I was pumping breast milk. He was on TPN along with his feedings every 2 hours. I look somewhat pensive. It is all a terrifying yet happy experience. I worked as a nurse’s aid for a number of years and have done GI tube feedings. Let me tell you nothing prepares you for feeding your 1442 gram son for the first time. I have held many a bottle in my years NOTHING compares to the feeling in that photo. Absolutely nothing. That is this Mother’s version of breastfeeding my child.
Those are the blessed moments. The ones that you are most thankful for. Those are the moments you hold close to your heart as that is all that I have. 1 year, 10 months, 19 days, 22 hours and 13 minutes ago my family made its last memory together.