November 23, 2010

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I am looking for pieces of them, for compelling evidence of their short lives, and I can't find what I'm looking for. There are times when I feel almost frantic; I want to do more, make more, give more, be more, ask more, love more. I look at what I've done and it just doesn't seem like enough. Because it isn't. It never will be.

Quilts and scrapbooks and little animal figures and drawings and carved initials and clothing and tattoos... I would have these things anyway, if my kids were here with me. Except that they're not.

Sometimes I wake up and I have to give myself a mental shake, deliver the cold reminder that I don't need to worry about rolling over and squashing Noah. He's not there to squash. So don't worry, don't worry.

He's not there.

3 comments:

  1. :( I wake up early sometimes thinking I need to feed Aiden. When I reach over to rub his back or scoop him up from his bassinet, he's gone. Nothing is next to me.

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  2. I'm sorry you don't have your children with you. It's so hard to try to find concrete things that say "He was here, he was alive." It's coming up on the year anniversary of Aiden's birth and it seems that everyone has forgotten he ever existed. I don't have much to point to. His tiny jar of ashes are the most concrete thing I have. I wish I had him. He would be 6 months old.

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  3. It is so hard. My first child, had he been born would be 29 years old. Older than you Vera. I have often wondered who the children that are not with me would be. What would they be like? There are a few and not all due to miscarriage. I had several abortions. It is a void that seems unfillable and a sadness that I do understand. I remember being in Delancey Street and being so angry at myself and so filled with guilt and shame. I wanted nothing more than to be a mother and to be able to share the huge amount of love I KNEW I had to give with someone else. I would see all these women running around with kids treating them badly and wonder why, now that I had finally gotten my life in order, wasnt I able to have one of my own? I thought honestly I was being paid back for my incredible bad behavior and this was my punishment, the denial of the one thing that I felt would heal me completely.

    But one day I read a positive pregnancy test and it was the most joyous moment. They say you know if you are truly ready to be a mother by the reaction, the HONEST reaction, you FEEL when you find out. If you are anything other than absolutely elated and overjoyed you are not really ready. I am not saying that fear of failure and loss and "OMG how am I gonna take care of this baby" does not come to mind eventually, but the first thing in your mind is pure joy. I felt that. And I was terrified until I was about 28 weeks along as I was so afraid that God was still gonna take him away from me for my incredible bad behavior.

    Well I remember laying in the hospital the first night after he was born and we were staring at each other. I started crying because he was the most wonderful little thing I had ever seen and I promised him that night that I would always be there for him and NEVER let him down. I would protect him and love him with all my heart.

    I still fear that God will take him from me for my bad behavior as a young person, but I pray that every day this is just my own psychotic paranoia...lol.

    It will happen Vera. And when it does it will be the RIGHT moment. You will not forget your other little ones, but the sadness will fade and you will find the void DOES get filled. Life moves on and there are new times just around the corner. One thing I have learned in all my foibles and follies is that Patience IS a virtue. Just keep on trudging forward, work hard, be kind and be patient and it will all happen for you.

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