sleeplessness

Hard night, last night. I can't stop thinking about Noah these last few days, and reliving my loss left me sleepless and dismayed.

I didn't grieve fully, at the the time. I put my pain away too quickly, as I was used to doing. Now I want to feel it. Want to, and don't want to. For who welcomes pain? We usually go to such lengths to avoid it, don't we? But my son deserves to be mourned.

When it happened, I was still afraid of what other people would think. I was still afraid of being a burden, still afraid that the people around me would get tired of me, ask me to move along. A new grief, seriously? Could you please get a grip, and stop letting these things happen to you? (My imagination can be my worst enemy, at times.) So I kept it to myself, as much as I could. I put it away, behind some other things. First things first, I told myself. But now it's at the front of my mind, again.

I want people to know. I want to be able to talk about him, to share him. For him to be thought of as a real person, and not some replacable object, some interchangable thing. All babies are precious, but even if I have more children someday, children who live, no other baby will be Noah.

Does anyone understand that?

I want to be able to say: Noah would have loved that. Noah would have been beautiful. I miss Noah, right now. And have people look me in the eye, instead of away, and just agree. It doesn't always have to be sad! I'm sorry he died, but I'm not sorry he lived. I won't pretend that none of it ever happened, or act like it doesn't matter that it did.